Solara
by LadyToFu
Summary: Yfandena has it all: beauty, wealth, and a daddy that spoils her rotten...that is until she marries Valdemar's Heir. Now it's up to the Heralds to deal with this royal pain. Is Valdemar ready for the Karsite Princess and her...firecat?
1. Author's Note

Author's note:  
  
I don't own Valdemar, Heralds, etc. but I'm guessing you all  
  
knew that already.   
  
Yes! I actually updated :) Please read and review. 


	2. Ch1

Author's notes:  
  
* blah * marks thoughts. :. blah .: marks Mindspoken stuff.  
  
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"NoNoNoNoNo!" the young girl screamed hysterically; her lustrous black hair tangling as she crammed her head beneath her pillow. "I WON'T GO! I'll run away before I marry that...that... OLD FART!"  
  
"Yfandena! Do not insult Prince Estien. He is an honored friend of your father's and a man of great character. You should be rejoicing that such a match has been made for you! Stop behaving like a mad witch and behave like a lady AT ONCE." sternly declared Queen Graeis, to little effect. Completely used to her daughter's tantrums, she privately cursed her husband for spoiling Yfandena (his little princess) so outrageously. She had been such a complaisant baby. A frown creased Graeis's elegantly arched brows. Well, there was no hope for it. The Treaty had already been signed. People were already calling it the "Sophia Pact." *Promise of wisdom indeed. Marrying a child unfit to rule a chicken coop to a man destined to be a king. Ah well, good intentions pave the road to hell...* Sighing, she knelt down beside the bed, her voluminous scarlet skirts billowing out around her like pools of blood. Gently removing the pillow covering Yfandena's head, Graeis attempted to sooth her wailing daughter. "Dearling, Estien is a very kind man. You've met him before, so you know he isn't that old. Why child, he's only eight and twenty. There are women out there who marry men two or three times that age. Besides, tell me you don't think he's handsome with his wavy blonde hair."  
  
"I WON'T DO IT. I HATE HIM!" shouted Yfandena, sobbing with renewed force. "H-he is an ev-vil f-f-freak! A g-g-godless h-h-heretic, who d-defiles V-V- V-Vk-Vkan.....o-our Lord."  
  
"Yfandena! Language!" gasped a shocked Graeis. "Where did you learn such language?! And to call Estien a godless heretic? Who... where did you hear such nonsense?!"  
  
"U-Uncle R-Resric." whimpered Yfandena: stunned into silence by her mother's uncharacteristic outburst.  
  
"I see." stated Graeis flatly. A cold look made her eyes briefly glitter gold, before gentling back into their usual warm amber. "Well, he is wrong. Sweeting, your uncle is a good man inside, but sometimes he just doesn't think everything really through. Estien is like a younger brother to your father, and has been for years. Even the Son of the Sun adores him. So you don't have to worry about his faith. Always remember, Vkandis helped create Valdemar too!"  
  
"But Uncle says..." Yfandena began.  
  
Sighing with exasperation, Graeis wished Resric to the deepest hells. All those times that Resric had said or done inappropriate things. The foolish notions and dangerous ideas he was constantly putting into Yfandena's head. It was almost as if he were trying to poison her mind. Suddenly, she felt a bit sick. *He couldn't be planning too... No, Resric is loyal, only a bit simple. He means no real harm. He probably doesn't even realize what he's been doing. *  
  
Nonetheless, Graeis couldn't shake the sinking feeling in her gut. She would keep a closer eye on Resric in the future. In the meantime, this situation with Yfandena had to be solved. "Yfandena, I don't want you spending so much time with your uncle anymore."  
  
"But MOTHER!"  
  
"No, darling, you ARE going to get married to Estien of Valdemar. Furthermore, starting tomorrow you will be studying the customs, values, and language of your future home. Even if I thought it wise for you to be around Resric, you wouldn't have the time too," calmly stated the Queen as gracefully walked out the door. She was glad to get away from the room as she heard a sudden crash followed by a piercing scream.  
  
*Here we go. Again. Well, I think I'll send her father up...* 


	3. Ch2

The months had passed quickly since Yfandena's mother had first presented her with the engagement. Yfandena had cried, screamed, even refused to eat for a time, but none of her actions had the effect she desired. To her shock, even her father had failed to accede to her wishes. He had showered her with presents and rare delicacies, but had absolutely refused to break the betrothal. As if a few sets of clothes, horses, servants, and jewels could convince her to accept Estien of Valdemar. The very notion had made Yfandena snort with contempt. So she had decided, if she could not get them to break the engagement, she would make sure everyone knew how miserable she was about it. Furthermore, she swore to herself that she would not learn an ounce about Valdemar. In the end though, her father did the unthinkable: he set his foot down.  
  
It had been a long cold day, Yfandena recalled. As usual, she had refused to attend her Valdemaren lessons and spent the majority of her hours wailing in her room. For once the servants had left her alone instead of trying to cajole her to outside. So, she read one of her new books for entertainment. When she got hungry, Yfandena was forced to snack on some cake and pastries she had filched from the kitchens, being on a hunger strike. Periodically, she would scream about her miseries. She had felt that it was most wise to do this at irregular intervals for maximum shock value. Yfandena had been in the middle of one such tirade when--just as the sun sank into the horizon-- her father had stormed into her room with a hoard of servants. As she sat on her bed with owl eyes, they stripped the place bare, even of Yfandena's precious gowns and books. Then King Albencht commanded his daughter to attend her lessons. He warned her that if she continued her disobedient ways, she would find more and more of her privileges removed. Likewise, if she was good, she would find herself rewarded.  
  
So, here she was, sitting in a class on Valdemaren customs and language-- just as she had been since that fateful night three months ago. Being young and extremely bright, she had picked up Valdemaren with amazing speed. In fact, she had surpassed her original tutor within a month. Not that old Geoff hadn't been well informed: being the resident Valdemaren expert. But in the end he was Karsite. Her new tutor, Sir Kenith Firkin, was Valdemaren to the core. The son of peasant farmers, he had served Prince Estien in the Valdemaren borders and earned the title of "Knight." He was subsequently sent to Karse as an ambassador and educator. Kenith was a talented man and a demanding teacher, but Yfandena didn't mind. She enjoyed her lessons with him. Geoff had been a stuffy old bat, but Kenith made history, language, and customs come alive. Besides which, under Kenith's careful tutelage, Yfandena truly perfected her Valdemaren. Now, she had barely even a trace of an accent. Which was just as well, since she would be living in Valdemar within a fortnight.  
  
"Yfandena, do you think you could do your wool-gathering some other time? You should be writing out the names and positions of the Heralds right now," said Kenith. Gently, he tapped on her slate with a writing stick and gave a knowing smile. "I understand that this isn't the most thrilling lesson, but it is essential."  
  
"Wool-gathering?" replied Yfandena. A confused look crossed her face as she looked up at Kenith, then around the room, and finally at her hands. "There are no sheep here."  
  
Kenith began to chuckle. "It's an expression. It means you are sitting there doing nothing so that dust will gather on you, like a coat of wool."  
  
"Ah. Wool-gathering." Yfandena laughed.  
  
"I suppose I should teach you more idioms. You'll need them. What with the wedding being moved up and all," said Kenith casually. He had an excited smile on his face.  
  
Everyone was excited about the upcoming wedding. That is, everyone except the bride. She was miserable. *Not that anyone cares* thought Yfandena. *As long as they get their stupid treaty, no one cares how miserable I am.*  
  
"Tell me Kenith, what will Valdemar be like? Really?"  
  
"It's nothing like Karse. Very green, lots of trees. You'll like it there, I think. You'll like Estien too," said Kenith with a smile.  
  
"Es-tien?" emphasized Yfandena, raising an eyebrow in suprise.  
  
"Oh that's right. 'Prince' Estien," laughed Kenith. A fond look gleamed in his blue-grey eyes as he remembered the confident young man. "You'll find that most Heralds don't stand on titles once you get to know them. To be on the safe side, I suppose you should still call them all "Herald" So- and-so, but nothing more is really necessary."  
  
Yfandena groaned, "Great. Another lesson."  
  
Snickering, Kenith replied, "Of course. One must always learn and everything in life is a teacher..."  
  
A knock on the door interrupted. Kenith barely had a chance to acknowledge the knocker before a dark head popped into the room.  
  
"Yer pardon I beg. Calls the Princess does the Queen," said the little black-haired boy in garbled Valdemaren. Tiny Toth, as the page was called, was the one of only a handful of Karsites who could speak Valdemaren at all. Kenith knew that this lad, in particular, had picked up most of the language by listening in on Princess Yfandena's lessons.  
  
Yfandena giggled, and with a wicked light glittering in her eyes, she began to circle Toth. "Why Toth, what wonderful Valdemaren. Wherever, did you learn?"  
  
Toth sensed doom as he stammered to reply, "N-N-No. I mean, Missus, Prin- Prin..."  
  
"Missus? Do I look like a 'Missus' to you?! Well, I think 'it' had better go and take 'it's' stink elsewhere. And stop pretending to speak a language 'it' can't," taunted Yfandena. Then, walking past poor Toth, she excused herself from Kenith before walking out the door. "I suppose, if my mother wants me I've got to go. I'll be back tomorrow."  
  
Kenith stared after her in surprise, wondering where the cruelty came from. Yfandena had such lightning fast moods. One minute she was a happy, amiable child and another a cold, sinister force. He questioned, not for the first time, the wisdom in marrying such a girl to the future King of Valdemar. Over the last couple of months, he had tried to teach her to share in his love of Valdemar, and the wonderful people that formed it. He made an effort to show her the value of compassion, character, and service. In the end though, there was little Kenith could do to change Yfandena. He was reminded of the old saying, "too little too late." She was stubbornly set in her ways and unwilling to change. Admittedly, the Sophia Pact was something that both nations needed and wanted, but there must have been another way to achieve it. Then again, such lofty pursuits were not for the thoughts of such as he. At least he could remedy some of the hurtfulness she spread. He had a feeling a lot of people in Valdemar would be doing the same soon. Sighing, Kenith turned his attention toward the crumpling little boy still standing by the door. "There, there Toth. Stop crying lad. There's a big boy. Of course you can't speak Valdemaren, you've never had proper lessons. Why you're incredibly bright to have picked up as much as you already have. If you want we can arrange lessons between just you and me. Then, you'll be able to speak Valdemaren as well as anybody."  
  
"But sir!" Toth said, shocked out of his tears by the kindly offer.  
  
"There's no trouble lad, now on with you. I know how busy they keep you young pages around here," replied Kenith as he gently ushered Toth out the door. Closing it firmly, he headed toward a small cabinet in the back of the room. *Ye gods I need a drink. The poor unassuming Heralds don't know what they're in for. I hope they're in decent health, because they're going to be in for one big blight of a headache...* 


	4. Ch3

Yfandena glared at the dress, silently wishing that she was a firestarter.  
  
"Dena, the dress is lovely, but it will look even better if you try it on so that Mistress Cardown can fit it to you," said the Queen.  
  
"No. I hate it," replied Yfandena in a dead tone. Ordinarily, she would have been overjoyed to possess such a beautiful gown, but not now. From a detached point of view, even she had to admit that it was lovely. The fabric alone was incredible, a weave of white silk threaded through with silver. The embroidered panels decorating the front and back of the dress were even more extraordinary. Brought by traders from the south, the panels were rumored to have been created by a fabled race of lizard men. They depicted some sort of love story in vivid colors and gems. However, no matter how lovely the gown was, Yfandena couldn't forget that this was a wedding dress. It's very creation reminded her of her impending doom. And frankly, if she had to marry Estien, she was determined not to be the only one miserable. Her parents wanted her to do this, then they would pay for it-- with the entire royal treasury.  
  
"But just last week you said that this was exactly the sort of dress you wanted. Your father and I have spent not a small, but a rather large, fortune hunting up all this." Graeis's eyes narrowed as she looked at her daughter.  
  
"Well, I've changed my mind. This will perhaps do for an evening gown, but not my wedding dress. Who gets married in white anyways? Such a dead sort of look. I want a scarlet dress. With gold woven in, and gold lace: only I want it to be real lace, not just filigree..." Yfandena continued to elaborate on her designs for a new and increasingly lavish gown, as she circled the room: waving her arms in the air to emphasize particularly important details. Talking of clothes always animated Dena, and her amber eyes glowed like the gold she was describing.  
  
"Enough." Stated Queen Graeis in a stern voice. She had long since taken a seat by the offending dress. As usual, an aura of grace and authority emanated from her, causing even Yfandena to stop and consider her words. "There will be no more talk of new dresses."  
  
The words hung in the air, a silence descending like thunderclouds before a storm. Then the floodgates burst open. Yfandena screamed and lunged toward the white gown. "I hate it! I told you I hate it!"  
  
At the Queen's signal, two servants intercepted the young princess before she could get too close to either the dress or her mother. Yfandena put up a fight, but the servants held her firm. "You will accept this. We cannot afford so much extravagance. Dena, why can't you understand this? There is so much more that we have to use that money for..."  
  
"I don't care! I want my dress!" screamed the struggling monster of a child: her shrill voice piercing through the palace walls. Queen Graeis clenched her lips together in frustration as her daughter launched into yet another fit.  
  
Suddenly, a tall broad-shouldered man walked into the room. With a bumpy great beak of a nose, slightly protruding teeth, and eyebrows like two hawks feet, King Albencht was not considered a handsome man. However, when those brows were knitted together in a frown, mountains moved to unfurl them.  
  
"What in the nine hells is going on?" boomed the King, running callused hands through his graying hair. He pointedly looked at the suddenly silent Yfandena.  
  
"I w-want a d-different d-dress." sobbed the Princess, a tear running artistically down her cheek. Her eyes seemed to grow bigger as she gazed up at her father.  
  
"All this noise over a dress? You servants there, take the Princess and find out what she wants. Then get it made." nearly shouted Albencht in exasperation. He watched as the Princess and servants alike quickly went to obey his commands. As quiet descended, Albencht, realized that he had once again given into his daughter's will once again. He turned to look sheepishly at his wife. "Well, Graeis we do have the money, so it can't really hurt."  
  
The Queen sighed. Somewhere, not so far away, the Princess giggled. 


	5. Ch4

:. Chosen, stop fidgeting. It's undignified. .: commented a wry voice in Estien's head.  
  
"I'm not fidgeting." Grumbled Estien, straightening his cloak once again. Standing before a long mirror, Estien picked over every detail of his clothes. The clasp just didn't seem to look right.  
  
:. The clasp looks fine. Stop worrying so much. .: laughed the Companion, hints of apples flavoring his thoughts.  
  
:.Lan, how can you be so calm? I'm about to go stark raving mad with the stress of it all. Three years of planning are about to culminate today. Finally, Valdemar will have a lasting ally. .:  
  
:. Easy. I'm eating. .:  
  
:. Figures. Well talk to me when you're done, Oh Great Food Bag. .: Sent Estien. Sometimes Rolan was simply exasperating. How could one not worry at a time like this? After years of planning, a marriage had been arranged between the House of Valdemar and the Royal Family of Karse. It was originally planned to be the cement that would hold the two countries together. However, factions on both sides of the Border were suddenly plotting to use the marriage as an excuse to unite the two countries. Only one side wanted everything to become a Valdemaren Empire, and the other side wanted a Karsite Kingdom. Then there was the growing number of Karsite priests preaching about the "sins of Valdemar..."  
  
:. Vanel is uneasy about that too Thi, and you know how accurate his "hunches" are.: chimed in Rolan, reminding Estien of the newly Chosen mage. Although his magical abilities were limited to some basic weather magics, Vanel had incredibly powerful foresight. And lately Van had been very vocal in his insistence that the Karsite priests were trouble.  
  
:. Stop thinking such gloomy thoughts. It's your wedding day! You know, traditionally, you're supposed to be happy. .: interjected Rolan, suddenly popping his head through the flap of Estien's tent. He winked a liquid blue-eye at his Chosen, making a sound suspiciously like a chuckle.  
  
"Hah! You're right though, horse. Besides, with weather like this, this marriage must be blessed by Vkandis himself." replied Estien, smiling as he gazed past his Companion at the the beautifully sunny day outside. "I wonder what Yfandena will be like though. Haven't seen the girl since she was about eight, you know."  
  
:. Well yes, I WAS there. Anyways, as I recall she was a charming little thing. All big eyes and chubby cheeks. .: said Rolan, Sending his Chosen a picture of a big amber eyed baby in wedding attire.  
  
"Gee, thanks." Gingerly, Estien turned to look in the mirror once again, wondering a bit that such luxury was available in a tent. It had mutually been agreed that the Valdemar/Karsite border was where the wedding was to be held. However, that had meant the creation of pavilions and houses for all manner of nobility along several small border towns. The results had been ingenious and surprisingly comfortable. Estien's tent, for example, held a full bath that doubled as the frame for a real feather bed. Estien had made use of both functions many times lately for aching bones. "As if I didn't already feel aged. I completely feel like one of those cradle- snatching old men."  
  
:. RELAX, Thi. I was only joking. .: replied the Companion as he pranced in place, a bit miffed at his Chosen's sensitivity. :. You're not that much older than her, you know. Don't worry, you'll see for yourself when you finally meet her. .:  
  
:.Yes, finally. Damn the Karsites and their customs. .: Sent Estien jokingly. He had originally gone to the Border weeks early with the hope of getting to know his bride before the actual wedding. Unfortunately, several Karsite priests had insisted that the bride must not be seen by anyone except her family before the ceremony. After much pestering, Albencht complied: so, Estien had not caught so much as a glimpse of his bride-to-be.  
  
:. Well, if you're done primping, Derna says her Chosen wants you up on the Great Pavilion. .: Sent Rolan, nipping Estien's cloak.  
  
"Tell her I'm on my way." Straightening his shoulders, Herald-Prince Estien walked out of his tent and strolled toward a large wooden structure. The Great Pavilion, as it was called, was built right on the Border. A giant circular wooden floor surrounded by high arches, the Pavilion was an exquisite tribute to modern craftsmanship. A raised dais stood at one end, gilded with precious metals. As Estien approached the Pavilion, he noticed that people were seated all around. A small figure dressed in formal Whites ran towards him, waving him toward the dais.  
  
"There you are! Hurry, the ceremony is going to start any minute." gasped Herald Terla, breathing hard with her exertions. "You've got to get up by the altar. I told Derna to tell Rolan a candlemark ago! What took you so long?"  
  
"I'm going, I'm going," replied Estien. Smiling as he ran up to the dais, he recalled the one lesson he had learned in all the years since he was first Chosen. "Rolan was eating. You know nothing gets between him and his food."  
  
:. Chosen... .: a slightly repentant thought entered Estien's head.  
  
:. Shush, brother. I know you were just giving me time to get over my nerves and think..: Sent Estien gently. :. Now, I've got to be serious. So quiet horse.... !!! .:  
  
The thought cut off as Estien's mind went blank. Looking down from the dais, Estien gazed at the single most stunning woman he had ever seen walking slowly toward him.  
  
:. Oh ho, are we in love then? .: came an unasked for response.  
  
:. Quiet Food-Bag. But she is a lovely creature... .: replied Estien. The girl, no woman, seemed float up the dais. Long, wavy black hair blew in the light breeze, flowing loose down past high proud breasts and a slim waist, occasionally brushing slender arms and hands. Luscious red lips set in a pale, flawless face curved in a slight frown. Two huge amber eyes glowed above high cheekbones, set off by the gold in her dress. As she approached Estien, she lowered her eyes and her cheeks flushed an endearing crimson.  
  
"Don't be frightened my beautiful Dena. It'll be over soon." Estien whispered into her ear as he took his place by her side. He had heard rumors of Yfandena having a terrible temper, but they must have been false. He smiled to himself; this creature was shy and nervous. Admittedly, shy girls had never been his type, but this could be different... 


	6. Ch5

As Yfandena's amber eyes met Herald-Prince Estien's blue, she nearly froze with fright. He was handsome enough, with golden hair framing a chiseled face: almost like one of Vkandis's warrior-angels, in fact. But his appearance didn't fool her. She had heard all about this Herald and his ways, and what she had heard would make the hair of any wellborn woman curl. She dropped her eyes and felt her cheeks flame as she thought about the conversation she had listened to last night.  
  
The evening had begun casually enough. Yfandena had been sulking around the Valdemaren tents, hoping to entertain herself, when she overheard the name "Estien" mentioned by a group of white-clad women. Curious about her future husband, she squirreled herself into a dark corner to eavesdrop on the exchange.  
  
"...can be kind of rough, but the things he can do with those hands!" sighed a leggy blonde, licking her lips in mock anticipation.  
  
"I can't believe Estien is actually leaving us either. I'm going to miss those late night parties," pouted a pretty brunette next to her. The other giggled as she let out an exaggerated sigh, clutching her hands to her heart.  
  
"Oh. So you were at one of those too," said a third through her laughter. She was a short and dumpy creature with the most engaging smile Dena had ever seen. "I've heard the rumors. Is it true that you and he and Leena..."  
  
Yfandena's eyes grew wide in the darkness as the conversation suddenly took an explicit turn. To be marrying a man with such a reputation! She was a gently raised lady and a Princess of the Blood. This was not to be tolerated, but she knew from past experience that the wedding was not to be called off. Dena was lost. Her eyes began to water as she thought about her dismal future. What if he continued such behavior after their marriage? What if he demanded such from her!? Her cheeks flamed and tears flowed as the women continued their conversation, oblivious to their eavesdropper. She hadn't even known some of THAT was possible, much less comfortable!  
  
A hand on her shoulder called Yfandena back to the present. She looked up at the Prince as he walked to her side. He smiled at her, confidence exuding from every fiber. Dena wanted to shrink away from him, but reconciled herself to stand still. She couldn't help trembling a little though as he took her arm in his. Swiftly, Estien ducked his head by her ear and whispered something unintelligible in Valdemaren. Yfandena plastered a fake smile on her face and nodded. Inside, she wanted to scream.  
  
Hours later, Yfandena still felt like screaming. The actual binding ceremony had been concluded just as the sun set, then the couple (along with the guests) had been escorted to a different pavilion made for feasting. The food offered was absolutely sumptuous, but Dena had little appetite. She had talked with her mother the night before; she knew what would happen after this feast. She felt dizzy as she thought of what such a rake would do to her, given such an opportunity.  
  
"Are you alright?" asked Estien gently. "You don't look well. Perhaps you'd like to retire..."  
  
Yfandena's eyes grew wide at the sly suggestion, and made in such a public place too! Estien had been almost kind, trying to make conversation and offering her different foods. However, Dena had not been fooled. "No! I mean, no thank you. I'll be fine."  
  
"Well, I suppose. The feast should be ending pretty soon anyway. See how many people are swaying in their seats? Ha, anymore wine and they'll be tipping over!" chuckled Estien obviously amused.  
  
Yfandena on the other was not. She nervously darted her eyes around the room. Realizing that the feast, along with her last night of innocence, was indeed drawing to a close. She felt tears building as she thought about all the evil, dastardly, unholy...  
  
Without warning, a drunken lord jumped onto his table. Swaying, he raised a wine glass in his fat hand and began to deliver a toast to the bride and groom. "Thanks be to the bride and groom for marryin in such a fine manner, and providin all us lads with some good tuck. May they have many years of happiness, starting with tonight! All night."  
  
Other inebriated men joined the lord in bawdy laughter, demanding that the bride and groom be excused immediately. Several women blushed and covered their faces, while others protested the bad behavior. Yfandena sat still as stone. She knew what was coming, and she wanted to crawl under the table as King Albencht stood.  
  
"Well, thank you Lord Kristof for that, ahem, speech. But we fear he does make a good point. The hour grows late, and the bride and groom should be excused." Albencht, a little drunk himself, looked pointedly at Estien and Yfandena.  
  
Estien rose in response, "Thank you for your kindness Majesty. And to all our esteemed guests, the Princess and I both thank you for gracing us with your presence for this momentous occasion." Then, he leaned toward her and whispered, "I'll be there in a little while, but I still have people to speak with."  
  
Yfandena nodded. She felt slightly faint as Estien motioned for servants to help escort her out to a specially prepared tent. Wanly, she walked with them toward the huge blue and crimson affair. It had been created with great symbolism in mind, the two Royal Houses uniting, as the colors united. The result was a glaring combination of colors that could, Dena was sure, penetrate even the deepest night. As they grew nearer to the monstrosity, Yfandena's fears grew. By the time the servants lowered the tent flaps after her, leaving her alone in the tent, Dena was in a full panic. Her breathing seemed to stop, and her dizziness increased. Then, as suddenly as the snuffing of a candle, blackness reigned. 


	7. Ch6

Estien felt good as he jauntily walked toward the tent. *A tent the size of a small farmhouse, and woven through with enough gold to buy several. * He couldn't help but think what a huge structure it was for such a small purpose. But then again, both sides were attaching special significance to the wedding night. For only after consummation was the marriage considered truly permanent.  
  
:.Chosen, just be careful.: whispered a warm presence in Estien's mind. Estien stopped in his tracks, his smile fading away.  
  
:.What? Why? Do you think the dissidents will strike tonight?.: asked Estien, his thoughts tinged with worry. The idea had occurred to him that the elaborate ceremonies would make juicy targets for anyone looking to cause trouble. Estien was enough of an empath to have felt a great deal of animosity at the wedding, although he couldn't quite pinpoint the source.  
  
:.It's not that... Only the girl... Just be careful Little Brother, for your sake and hers. For all that she looks like a woman, she is yet very much a child.: replied the Companion. A sickly green color accompanied his thoughts, emphasizing the uneasiness Rolan felt. Estien knew that he didn't particularly like Yfandena.  
  
:.Alright horse, I'll be careful. .:  
  
With a sigh, Estien covered the remaining distance between the monstrous tent and himself. Then, taking a deep breath he prepared to enter, when the tent flap suddenly flew open. Estien briefly panicked as a hand shot out and grabbed his tunic, pulling him inside.  
  
"Gods above, Terla! What are you doing here?" gasped Estien, as he recognized the red-haired Herald. "I was about to pull my knife on you!"  
  
"Shush." hissed Terla, motioning for silence with one hand and hanging on to Estien with the other. Turning slightly, she nodded toward a large lump on the bed. "Her Royal Highness fainted when Rian and Preni brought her in here. Little twit. Just thank the gods that your father had the foresight to send Trainees rather than the regular servants. They had enough sense to come get me instead of raising a ruckus. Do you realize what could have happened if this got out in camp?"  
  
Estien groaned, he could feel the beginnings of a massive headache. "Bad omens, more religious messages about the evil of an alliance with Valdemar. Rumors spread all over Karse and Valdemar about doomed marriages..."  
  
"Exactly." Terla nodded. "Which is why, as Seneschal's Herald, I think we should keep this under wraps."  
  
"Easier said than done." sighed Estien. He motioned at the massive tent walls and the huge bed frowning, "How exactly do you propose we fool those who will be.. ahh.. wanting proof... of the... ahh.. marriage night? I'm not going to rape the poor thing while she's passed out."  
  
Terla nearly doubled over in laughter at Estien's discomfiture. Estien, on the other hand, stared after her with doubt. He wondered if the stress had finally gotten to her. This situation was altogether not humorous.  
  
"How Heraldic of you." she drawled teasingly, straightening herself out. "But seriously, you don't honestly think that high-born maids all go to their weddings as chaste as doves, now do you? I know you know better."  
  
To be honest, he had wondered how several wealthy young women he knew had managed to avoid scandals. Especially since he knew their disreputable sides rather intimately. The answer dawned on him as the sprightly red- haired Herald, pulled out a small vial from her pocket and shook it at him.  
  
"Companion's blood, although Derna nearly kicked me when I poked her, the baby." snickered Terla. She had a sardonic sense of humor at the best of times, but as she walked toward the door, Estien thought she was having entirely too much fun with this. "Well, as it is, I've already taken care of everything. All you have to do is get out of those clothes, hop in to bed, and looked somewhat rumpled tomorrow morning."  
  
Estien managed a wan kind of smile. "Thanks Terla. I don't suppose anyone will ever find out about this?"  
  
"Not unless you tell them Thi." said Terla with a wink. She extinguished the lanterns and walked outside.  
  
With a sigh, Estien began to take off his shirt. *What a night...* 


	8. Ch7

Soft snores penetrated the crisp morning air, as Yfandena cracked her dark eyes open. A pounding headache made it hard for her to think. Squeezing her eyes shut again, Dena tried to sleep a little more, luxuriating under the silky blue and white sheets. Suddenly, it dawned on her. Her sheets were never blue and white. And someone was snoring, in bed...with her. Like a great flood, memories rushed back into her mind.  
  
Staring at the brightly colored ceiling, Yfandena barely recalled being led into the tent then gasping for air before darkness claimed her. Last night, she had been so scared. No, she had been terrified of what the Valdemaren Prince would do. Eyes wide open with remembered fear, Yfandena twisted her head around to stare at the source of the soft snores. Her gaze fell upon Estien's chest first-- his shirtless chest. A strange feeling rose as she realized he wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. That feeling congealed into shock as she grasped that neither was she.  
  
Yfandena clutched sheets and blanket to her in white knuckled fists. Surely, the Prince hadn't... *No, no, no. Only a monster would do that. Estien. No..* Her mind ran in circles, as she abruptly tried to get out of the hated bed. In her haste, Dena tripped over a stray tassle and fell onto the cold floor. Tears welled in her eyes.  
  
On the bed, Estien woke with a start. A perplexed expression crossed his face as he saw Yfandena pale and bleary-eyed on the floor. Slowly, he rose from the bed, making soothing sounds. Gradually, he made his way to Yfandena's side, as if afraid to scare her away. Dena began to quiver like a wounded deer as he came near. Her thoughts however were focused on Estien in an ever-growing panic. He didn't seem like a bad person, and yet...  
  
With surprising gentleness, Estien scooped Yfandena off the ground and carried her back into the bed. As he did so, Dena glimpsed a large stain on the covers that could only be blood. Her mind went blank at the implications. She began to whimper, feeling as if the room were dancing around her. She saw Estien looking down at her, a question in his eyes. All she could do was stare back, the pain naked on her face. Her headache grew worse, and the edges of her vision began to dim. As Dena fainted once again, she could only think of what a dishonorable fiend she had married. 


	9. Ch8

Lying on her back, Yfandena realized she was staring at the ceiling of a tent, yet again. It had been a week since Yfandena had been disgraced. She still remembered that morning vividly. Just as she had woken up from her faint, a whole gaggle of women had rushed into the tent and stripped the sheets from the bed, leaving her shivering in Estien's arms. Estien had whispered something into her ear, she had been too dazed to understand what, and left her in the hands of more women.  
  
Later, she had screamed, moaned, and cried. But nothing had worked. Her mother came in and had, in fact, told her rather sharply that she would, for once, stop her childish behavior and accept her marriage. When Dena tried to tell her mother exactly what had occurred, her mother had simply told her in a tight, quiet voice that it was not appropriate to discuss such things. She hadn't been allowed to even see her father.  
  
Yfandena had been heart-broken. All her life, people had done exactly what she wanted them too. They had cosseted her, adored her. Now, her own mother wouldn't even listen to her. In fact, everyone seemed to ignore her: everyone except those wretched Valemarens. They kept on with their pretenses of kindness. Fake kindness, she was sure, just like the noble children used to act around her. Even Estien kept up his good manners the few times that she had seen him. Of course none of it fooled her: she had already exposed him for the monster he truly was. Not that she had ever confronted him directly. Something about the way he moved warned Dena that he could be a very dangerous man. She was scared. After all, look what that rogue had done already!  
  
So, after the first couple days, Yfandena did what she always did when she could not get her way. She sat in her tent and fumed. She read stories and songs, and plotted strange twisted plans for vengeance. And before she knew it, a week had passed. The feasting concluded and many lords left for their homes. The royal families were also to leave shortly: over the next day to be exact. Her parents would leave with the setting sun, symbolizing their loss of a daughter. She and Estien would leave with the dawning sun to capture their new beginning.  
  
Yfandena felt desperate, scared, and completely unlike herself. She even contemplated suicide, only the taking of life had seemed much too...well, wrong!  
  
*Haven. If only it truly was,* she thought as she closed her eyes. The sunset ceremony of departure would start soon. She could feel the cooler evening air slipping through despite the tent's heavy fabric. She would be saying good-bye to her parents for the first time, perhaps forever. Yfandena felt tears stream unbidden down her cheeks, the hot rivulets pooling beneath her neck and collar. A fresh wave of despair clutched at her heart. Not only would she be in a horrible situation, she would be in it completely alone. Perhaps suicide wasn't such a bad idea after all...  
  
Wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, Yfandena swung her feet off the bed and onto the floor. Death was wrong, but surely not when living was so much worse. She would find something sharp and plunge it into her heart. All the star-crossed lovers in her ballads did something of the sort. It seemed to be, after all, the fastest way to go: a new sort of courage welled-up inside Dena as she searched for an appropriately jagged object.  
  
*Maybe there's something behind that chest in the corner* she thought, as she gazed at the shadowy recesses behind the huge bureau. With her head turned to one side, she stretched her right arm into the darkness.  
  
Suddenly, she felt something furry...and curiously warm.  
  
:. Well of course I'm warm. I can't very well be cold AND alive. .: came an amused voice in her mind.  
  
"Wha..?" Yfandena exclaimed, hitting her head on the chest in shock.  
  
:. Not "Wha," but Solara. My name is Solara, and I am a firecat. .: 


	10. Ch9

Dena blinked. She sat where she had collapsed onto the floor, head throbbing where she had hit it on the hard wood of the chest. The cat- creature had long since strutted out from behind the bureau, and was now sitting before Dena, licking its paw. She blinked again. The creature before her didn't disappear. She gazed down at its tawny fur, cream with strangely reddish highlights. Golden eyes met blue eyes: eyes that seemed to fall forever into bottomless pools of liquid-blue fire. *It spoke to me. This thing...*  
  
Delicate jaws parted, showing razor sharp fangs as Solara stretched out her lithe body and yawned. :. Really. All this "it." I do have feelings, you know. I'm almost offended, .: she finished, with an un-catlike snort. After a bit of circling, she seemed to settle into a crouching position that made her look like one of the old Sphinx statues Yfandena had seen in one of her books.  
  
Dena blinked once more. All thoughts of desperation were driven from her head as her mind tried to wrap itself around the fact that a firecat was in her room. A firecat. A real living, breathing firecat. "I-I'm sorry. I just wasn't really... I mean, I've never really met a talking cat before," Dena stammered as she tried to recall everything she'd ever heard about magic and giant cats.  
  
:. Well yes, I'd be rather surprised if you had. .: Came the wry reply. A tail twitched. Yfandena could have sworn the cat was smirking at her, except cats couldn't smile, much less smirk.  
  
:. I thought we'd been over this. I'm not a cat, I'm a firecat. .: The tail grew quite agitated as Solara's tone grew bored.  
  
Dena sat in silence. She just didn't know how to reply. She knew that the firecats were avatars of Vkandis, a sign of his favor like the flame- tongues that had sometimes appeared around Father Jedris, the old Sunhame priest that had been her tutor so long ago. She still remembered his kindly face as he taught her different prayers to Vkandis. Dena had missed him when he had been dismissed. Not anymore though. He had just left like all the others left her. She realized that now. No one ever had truly loved her; even her mother and father were about to abandon her.  
  
Yfandena's heart nearly stopped as a disgusted growl broke silence of the night. Solara got-up and re-settled herself directly in front of Yfandena: her eyes looking straight into Dena's and her posture became tense. Dena could sense the disdain in those bright eyes; they bored down on her like picks of ice. :. Honestly child. Do you really think your parents are abandoning you? You do realize that there is a growing anti-Valdemaren sentiment in Karse, and that your father created this treaty in order to avoid a possible war. You do also realize that if this treaty fails, your father could lose his hold, tenuous as it is, on the throne. You do understand that the political situation between Valdemar and Karse is growing increasingly tense, and that your father's deposition could result in the deaths of thousands, including every last member of your family. Or, are you so blind and self-centered that you have failed to see what was happening around you? Did you honestly think your parents would ignore the cries of their only child for petty reasons? .: Solara emphasized her words with pictures and feelings of loss, turmoil, anguish, and heartbreak. The last, Yfandena was sure, was from her mother. It had somehow "smelled" like she always thought her mother smelled.  
  
Dena sat in shock. She had never known. She would have never guessed. Her family had not abandoned her at all, but was forced to give her up. An odd feeling began to swell in her chest, squeezing her heart with unfamiliar emotions. *If this treaty doesn't work, then mother and father and aunties and gran will all die. I can't let that happen. I can't. Estien is bad, but letting them all get hurt is worse.* Resolve rose in her, causing Dena to unconsciously close her hands into tight, white fists.  
  
Solara purred and began to relax. :. I thought so. Keep that determination child, for it will serve you well. Now, people are coming. Are you prepared to face them? .:  
  
"I suppose..." replied Yfandena. "But how am I going to explain you?"  
  
A soft but heavy paw rested itself on Yfandena's knee, as a mystical expression transformed Solara's dark-masked face into a copy of a holy statue. :. It is not time for me yet. I answered your need, but you are not yet worthy. I'm going to leave now, and you won't see me until you prove you merit the blessings of a firecat. .:  
  
With those words, the firecat vanished into the evening air, leaving Yfandena wondering if she had imagined it all. Surely she had, or she was going insane. For, whoever heard of a female firecat presenting herself to a female child? Voices came nearer to the tent, and Yfandena could make out the warm laugh of the diligent Herald Terla.  
  
Dena rose from the ground and brushed of the dust from her dress with both hands. One thing was for certain though, imagined or not, the cat's lesson had been well received. Dena would survive. 


	11. Ch10

:. "You won't see me until you prove you merit the blessings of a firecat." Someone was in a dramatic mood. .:  
  
Solara jumped with a most ungraceful yowl as Rolan nosed her in the back. He almost tipped her over with the force of his push.  
  
:. Don't DO that horse! .: She Sent, batting a reddish paw at him for good measure. Something as big as a Companion should NOT have been able to sneak up on her. They were preternaturally silent, but she should still have been able to sense him. She had a cat's hearing after all, and then some.  
  
:. You know, you're thinking out-loud too, oh most-holy-and-perfect-of- firecats. .: Came a rather amused reply. Rolan shook his head, causing his mane to flutter around him in cascading locks.  
  
Solara glared up at him. She'd never wished to turn someone into a mouse so terribly much. *I swear, I'll be a mage the next time I come back. Maybe an adept. Then we'll see my pretty pony*  
  
:. I heard that you know, oh poised-and-gracious-wonder. .: Rolan nudged Solara again before sinking down onto the grass beside her.  
  
Solara's eyes grew wide. She had thought her ruminations were well shielded. An uneasy feeling stirred inside her. She was a firecat after all, she was supposed to be composed and all-knowing, and completely in control of herself. If that control was slipping. Yfandena was enough of a problem, but if she herself was not together...  
  
Rolan let out an exaggerated sigh, catching Solara's attention. A sympathetic look in his eyes let her know that he understood at least the bones of her situation. :. Stop it, So. Firecat or no, you can't be more than you are. You're mortal now, just like I'm mortal. We know a little more than the humans, and we have some advantages here or there, but we're still people. And that means fallible. You're young, Dena's young. You both need time. .:  
  
She hated to admit it, but the horse made sense. She shook her head a bit as she padded her way closer to Rolan's white bulk. Curling up near him, she reveled in the shared warmth. She could feel a purr rising up in her chest. :. I know, I know. I don't even know what's wrong with that girl. She's got this block against Heralds in general and Estien in particular. I can't quite understand why. But. .:  
  
:. But nothing. You said it yourself. She's just not ready for any of this or you yet. .:  
  
:. I wish she were. Where did things go so wrong? She was supposed to have been, you know. She was to have been the hope. I was supposed to have gone with her to Valdemar and helped to cement this alliance. .: Solara sighed, resting her head on Rolan's comforting side. :. Now everything is so unclear. .:  
  
Solara could feel Rolan's body shake in a distinct chuckle. It was uncanny that they could all be so human, even when they all had left those bodies behind.  
  
:. The best laid plans don't last past the first encounter, right? Well, we all have to make new plans. For Karse AND for Valdemar. .: Came the smooth, if slightly sad, reply. :. We all have to tread carefully. The Dark is that much closer to causing more strife between our lands. .:  
  
The firecat closed her glowing eyes. :. I know. .: Solara could almost feel the pounding of war drums around her. That was not the Sunlord's will, but the Dark persisted. It persisted since time unremembered, and no matter how many times they beat it back, it rose again. She knew that they had to keep fighting it though, in this lifetime or any other.  
  
The Dark. Her eyes flew open as thoughts unbidden flashed in Solara's mind. She sat up in a singularly graceful motion to look directly into the Companion's eyes.  
  
:. I felt it too. .: Came Rolan's bare whisper of a thought. He gazed with equal dismay into Solara's shaunted eyes. :. It comes. .: 


	12. Ch11

Sorry, I edited a chapter last time, which was why the author's note came up twice. Thanks for the head's up though. This is the new chapter, and an extra long one too! I also edited the last chapter a bit. Hehe  
  
3 FlameAngel (I always wanted to be a firestarter!) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Brilliant rays of light filtered through the branches of the leafy trees that lined the road. Yfandena couldn't help but stare in wonder at the broad leaves, so unlike the kesta trees that usually lined the Karsite roads. Yet, the smell was so familiar: a clean scent that reminded her of rain and sent refreshing tingles down her back. She couldn't help but smile a little as she took another deep breath of that wonderful scent.  
  
"So she does know how to smile!" A laughing baritone exclaimed in Karsite somewhere to her left. Yfandena refused to turn her head. That would only encourage the speaker to speak more, and she did not feel like talking-- especially to him.  
  
"If you don't answer me, I'll kill you." Stated Estien, his voice leeched of all emotion. Dena twisted her head toward him, eyes wide, at the unexpected threat. She opened her mouth to stammer out an apology, but could force nothing out.  
  
Estien pulled his amazingly white horse closer to Dena's, so that the two matched paces like parade mounts. He smiled at her sheepishly. "I was just joking Dena. You know, I would never hurt you. But you really can't keep ignoring all of us. It's two more days until we reach the capital, and you'll go stark raving mad if you don't speak to someone soon."  
  
Yfandena relaxed a little as his words sank in. He had been joking. This time. Not that anything had happened to her in the three days since they had left for Haven. The firecat had been right. The Estien and his Heralds had been nice enough to her: almost too nice, in fact. They saw to her every need, even conjuring gourmet meals from gods knew where every time they stopped to eat, and speaking Karsite whenever she was near. They even managed to get to places where she had her own room with feather beds and comforters every night. Yet, she just couldn't bring herself to reconcile with them. Not after what had happened to her. Not after she knew what Estien was capable of. Yfandena glared at him through the corner of her eye as he continued to talk about her impeding madness.  
  
"I'm not going to go mad." Yfandena heard herself say in flawless Valdemaren.  
  
Estien gaped, feigning a heart-attack. "S-s-She SPOKE! And in Valdemaren, no less. Very, very good Valdemaren, by the way."  
  
"You knew I could speak Valdemaren." She stated flatly. "My parents told you so."  
  
"True." He sighed, still grinning from ear to ear at finally getting a response.  
  
"Then why speak in Karsite all the time?"  
  
"Well, we're all pretty fluent in it. I have to be, and all the Heralds here were chosen to attend because they are familiar with Karse. So, we figured we'd make you comfortable."  
  
Yfandena had had a feeling he'd say something like that. She turned her head away from Estien and gazed out at the road between her horse's ears. She could hear heavy wagons and chattering behind them.  
  
"Why?" She finally asked, her tone as emotionless as ever.  
  
"Why not?" Estien countered, turning serious. "Look, Dena. I don't know where your enmity stems from, but you have to understand. I didn't particularly like the idea of marrying a stranger either, but I want to make the best of this situation. So do my people."  
  
"Is that what you call it?" Yfandena let a little heat creep into her voice. Estien, with his façade of kindness, when really he had used her and done the unthinkable to her. How could he not know why she was so bitter? Dena fought tears as anger and depression threatened to drown her again. She thought of her family and the struggles they would go through if her marriage failed. She thought of Solara, the firecat. Her very own firecat.  
  
Estien moved Rolan even closer to Dena's horse. "Dena. What is it? What is it you're not telling me? I'm enough of an empath to know that something about us really bothers you. I know some of those priests of yours have been spouting the "white demon" slop, but you don't believe that do you?"  
  
Dena looked up at him. Estien met her gaze, his blue eyes dark with worry but sincere. She didn't care. "And what if I do believe them?" She growled at him. She wanted to tear him to pieces at that moment. The bastard. After everything he had done to her, he had the nerve to think that she would need other reasons to hate him!  
  
Estien looked at her, alarm clearly on his face. His eyes grew intense. She could feel them scorching her, almost seeming to look through her for a second, before he relaxed once again. "No. That's not it. It's something else isn't it? What is it that you're not telling me? Surely, no one has wronged.." He persisted.  
  
Dena couldn't take it anymore. She felt heat rise in her. She felt the anger, frustration, loneliness, and hatred boil inside her and surface as Estien continued to speak.  
  
"You have the nerve to ask me, what's wrong? After what you've done to me?" She gasped out between clenched teeth, interrupting Estien's last series of questions.  
  
"What I've..?" Estien's face grew completely blank a moment before he collected himself. Sitting straighter on his horse, he turned to her with all seriousness, "What have..what have I done to offend you my lady?"  
  
Yfandena cracked. She felt the last of her walls melt away at his feigned innocence. He was an empath, well he would feel what she felt for him. She bombarded him with emotions, drawing them to the surface and thinking them at him. "You bastard. You. That night. The first night. You did that to me, and you can ask me why I hate you?!" She hissed at him.  
  
Estien sat silently for a minute, as if absorbing what she had said-a faraway look on his face. Then, understanding seemed to dawn, and he turned toward her with sad eyes. "You don't think that I..?" He began to ask, reaching out his hand toward hers.  
  
She snatched her hands back before he could touch them, jerking her horse's reigns. The animal whinnied in protest at the unexpected movement, but being of calm temperament only danced a little instead of completely panicking. It was enough to break the anxiety, thick as mud, between Yfandena and Estien though. Both began reaching for the reigns to get the prancing animal under control.  
  
Suddenly, Yfandena heard an odd whistling noise followed by a burning sensation by her ear.  
  
"DENA!" Bellowed Estien, jumping out of his saddle and knocking her off hers. Yfandena could feel bruises forming as he manhandled her onto the ground and underneath four white legs. 


	13. Ch12

Estien watched in horror as an arrow barely missed Yfandena, landing with a resounding thunk in the trunk of a nearby tree. He had to get her safe, he thought to himself, as he grabbed her off her horse and dove under Rolan's protecting bulk.  
  
:.Rolan! Where did that come from? Is everyone okay?.: His mind nearly screamed at his Companion. Slowly, he began to rise from his position, scanning the silent road and the surrounding trees. He noticed several of the other travelers doing the same. Estien winced as he stood fully. His ankle throbbed, warning of an injury he would pay for later.  
  
:.Are you both okay?.: came a voice in his mind. Terla. Estien glanced around, finding the slim, petite woman and nodded ever so slightly in reassurance. :.Dammit. I was looking right at Dena. We almost lost her! It came from the trees over there--the reddish ones with the yellow splotches. Estien, I don't like this. There is more than one person with a bow out there. We can all feel it. But the Companions and scouts couldn't see or sense anything before!.:  
  
Estien looked around him at his fellow travelers. There were five Heralds, including himself, and three Heraldic trainees. Two small wagons loaded with goods, a few unmounted servants, a cook, and four mounted guards to accompany those wagons completed their retinue.  
  
:.Alright. How many do you think there are out there? They can't be bandits. No bandits would be stupid enough to attack a group with this many fighters. .: He Sent to Rolan and Terla. He looked down at Yfandena quivering under Rolan's legs. :.They shot at her and only her, so we can assume that she's the target. .:  
  
:.There are at least twenty men out there Chosen. We know that one of them is a mage of some ability, since we could not sense them before. He could be hiding more men in the forest. We cannot afford to lose her Chosen. .: stated Rolan gravely. :.The treaty..:  
  
:.Dammit I know. We need to get her out of here, but I don't want to leave the servants and all to defend themselves. .:  
  
:.Then split the forces. We'd have to anyway. The trainees, the guards, and I will stay with the wagon and cover you. Josen, Kart, Minna, and you can break her out of here and make a dash for Haven. The Companions can make it there before nightfall if you go at full speed. .: Terla Sent flately.  
  
:.No! It'd be suicide for all of you if they decide the wagons are a good target too. .: Estien replied.  
  
:.We don't have much choice in the matter. The servants and guards couldn't keep up with the Companions, and you'll need all the Heralds to get her to Haven safe, especially if there's a mage and an unknown number of men on your tail. .:  
  
:. She's right. Terla and the trainees can at least get the servants out, along with the guards if things get bad. Chosen, we must go and NOW. Our main concern is the girl, we must keep her safe! .:  
  
Setting his face in a grim scowl, Estien gazed once more toward his fellows. The interchange had taken barely moments, and he knew that they had less than that before their attackers decided to move again. :.Alright. Rolan, tell the others our plan, if you can call it a plan. At my signal, we make a break for Haven. Guard formation, Dena will ride pillion behind me at center. Have Josen erect one of those light reflecting mage barriers around all of us, and all the shields he can around the girl. I want Minna to do whatever she can to those would-be assassins. Whatever she can. .:  
  
He felt Rolan's assent, and vaguely heard him relay the orders to the other Companions. Terla had already mounted and moved toward the wagons and guards, motioning them to gather protectively around the wooden structures.  
  
The others mounted as well, and Estien saw leaves rustle all around them. He could hear the crunching of footsteps behind the trees that lined the road. His body tensed, his right hand moving almost unconsciously toward his sword, the other reaching toward Yfandena. "Dena, get up on Rolan. Quickly." He whispered, trying to move his lips as little as possible. "We must go."  
  
Estien jumped up into Rolan's saddle first, followed by a trembling Yfandena who scrambled up behind him onto the tall horse. Her arms clamped his waist with the forcefulness of a drowning spirit.  
  
:.Okay. Rolan, ready? Go! .: 


	14. Ch13

This chapter is dedicated to all my lovely lovely lovely reviewers.Trina Ti, Herald Mistylenna, Magdellin, Kerowyn, Arwen, torifire, and LeopordDance~~ THANKS FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME~~!!!!!!!!! *FlameAngel GLOMPS ALL!!!!!* MUAH************  
:.Getting inventive, aren't they?.: Sent Estien as Rolan jumped over a pit- trap like construction crackling with mage energy, only to find himself pounding through two swordsmen.  
  
Rolan snorted, picking up a little more speed. :. Damn them. It's getting worse. I've already warned Haven, they're sending out help, but it'll be a good candlemark until we're close enough for them to do any good. Careful! The girl is beginning to slip again! .:  
  
Estien bit his lip in frustration while lashing leather straps over Yfandena's arms. She had already slipped of Rolan once, causing both Companion and rider to have a moment of pure panic. The girl simply could not hang on to him amidst the constant battle that they had been facing.  
  
What they had thought would be a large band of men had turned out to be a small army. An army that they had been forced to fight for nearly three marks. * Hydantha's tits, where are all these men coming from? How could no one have detected them this far inside Valdemar? Thank the gods Josen and Minna have been able to counter all the magics. Damn that adept. He's a slippery one, but at least we got the two Masters. I hope Minna finds him soon.*  
  
Estien growled profanities as yet another group of fighters congregated in the road ahead. He saw a fleeting streak of white as Josen dashed past him, hurtling a mass of mage energy. Estien winced. Josen had used that trick more than once already, becoming just a shade paler each time. A Master mage, Josen couldn't continue the energy he was using keeping up the shield around Yfandena and fighting.  
  
:. Rolan. We need a plan. At this rate, we aren't going to make it. .:  
  
:. I have a plan. .: Came the unexpectedly feminine reply.  
  
Estien grunted as Rolan sailed over sprawled bodies, and tried to concentrate on that voice. :. Minna! Where are you? Did you find the mage? .:  
  
:. No. He's good. I'm an adept, but he's a better one. I'm not sure if I could take him out even with Josen, the way things are going right now. .: Sent Minna, riding up behind Estien. The other Heralds had returned to their original guard formation, a diamond with Estien riding in the front.  
  
He felt his heart sink. They were all doomed then, if the mage decided to show up. He could blast them into oblivion.  
  
:. Don't be such a featherbrain, Oh-Gutless-Wonder. He would have done that already if he was going to. There are obviously reasons he is not. .: Rolan interjected.  
  
Estien grimaced, :. Let's not start that again, Rump-for-Brains. Min! What's this plan of yours?.:  
  
:. Simple enough. We stop running. The group will congregate around us. Josen is going to clear a path for you and Kant. You two are going to make a run for it. I'm going to make sure no one follows you. .: Minna replied in a cheery tone.  
  
At least the tone would have been cheery, had they not been mindspeaking. Estien picked up the dark edge behind Minna's façade, and it sent warning bells ringing through his head. She was desperate, and this was a desperate solution. :. Min, Josen is exhausted already. You're pretty tired too. How do you propose the two of you "clear the path for us" and stop an adept? .:  
  
:. Estien, we all knew when we got our whites that not all of us would grow old in them. Well, I already talked to Josen, and he agrees. That girl could secure Valdemar some peace. Peace is more important than the two of us. So are you. Kant and the Companions agree too. .:  
  
:. Minna.. .. .: Estien began, meaning to repudiate the plan. Suddenly, he felt Rolan slowing. :. Rolan! .:  
  
:. Brother of my heart, what needs to be done, needs to be done. You are a Herald, so are they. .:  
  
Estien's face froze, mirroring his heart. Minna had been Chosen the same year, had in a lot of ways grown-up together. Images of her flashed through his mind. Her superior grin as she boasted of her first kiss, her red running nose as she had cried on his shoulder over her first broken heart, and finally her soft, sweet smile as he had caressed her cheek their first night together.  
  
A scared whisper behind him penetrated his whirl of thoughts. "Why are we stopping?"  
  
"Shush. Don't worry, we'll keep you safe. " He replied gently back, trying to collect his own emotions. Men began to assemble in rings around the tired Companions and their riders. At least three rings, more than twenty men all armed to the teeth, and the adept still nowhere to be seen. Estien tensed. Minna, his friend and so much more. Josen, so young, having earned his whites a bare year before.  
  
Sudden movement wrested all eyes toward the men surrounding them, as gap parted the circles. The toughs politely made way, almost bowing in respect, as a darkly dressed wraith of a man limped through their number toward the Companions and their riders.  
  
"Surrender the girl and you may go free." Hissed the wraith-man, a sly glint in his narrowed eyes as he entered. A purplish black amulet hung on a black cord around his neck, giving away his identity. The adept. "Keep the girl, and you may die."  
  
Behind him, Estien could feel Yfandena freeze with fear, and.. . . *Recognition? She recognizes the mage!* Estien realized, his touch of empathy proving useful once again.  
  
:. Get ready. .: Sent Rolan as a hush fell over the gathering; all awaiting the Heralds' response to the mages ultimatum.  
  
Minna and the Companion Lansis walked five steps bravely forward, separating her from the group. Lansis' white mane gleamed in the late sun as the two stopped, heads held high. Minna contemptuously smiled at the mage, brushing a lock of her short brown hair behind her ear. "We think not."  
  
With those words, she raised her hands and began to chant, as the other Companions shot off once again. Explosions sounded, as the rings of men burst into flames. Estien brandished his sword, hurling the blades edge at shoulder joints and bare necks wherever he saw them as Rolan dove through burning, fighting mounds of man-flesh.  
  
Rolan continued to run, his speeding causing trees to blur into solid horizontal lines of green and brown. :. I love you, Your Highness. .: Came a whispered Sending. Estien stopped frantically scanning the road for traps or men, feeling a hand of ice grip his heart once again. :. Be a good king. .:  
  
He twisted his head back just in time to see a burst of light, followed by the unmistakable roar of pure power: her Final Strike. Rolan paused in his gait, coming to a grinding halt, equally stunned by the force of the blast. For a moment, they both just gazed back blind and deaf to the world.  
  
Yfandena's slim arms, grasping him with renewed strength brought him back to awareness. She was so warm. Blinking away tears, Estien stared down the road behind them. He only saw trees, dirt, and an equally still white form. He felt Rolan's muscles bunch as the Companion prepared to run once again.  
  
Hands shaking as much as the girl behind him, he managed to choke out, "Let's wait a bit for Kant and Helan, Rolan. I don't think we have anymore pursuers." 


	15. Ch14

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! *MUAH* (T.T) FlameAngel with big teary eyes.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`  
  
Yfandena felt Estien stiffen as a wave of heat and sound rolled over them. Rolan had stopped, jarring Yfandena out of the dazed panic that had engulfed her since the Karsites had started to attack. The fine-woven seams of the cloth, the beak noses, and the dark hair of her country men. Could they be anybody else? The Karsites and the priest. She had known the man from the moment he had stepped through that formidable circle. How could she not recognize the priest that she trusted so? Her uncle's spiritual councilor. The holy man had lectured her many a times with those thin lips, set in a saturnine smile, on the duties of a woman and a princess. Not that she had paid attention to his ramblings in the main, but she remembered the lessons behind several. He was a sacred priest of the Sunlord, after all. The way to Vkandis, he had taught her, was through faith in Him alone. To associate with the infidels, like the Valdemarens, was death and an affront to the truths of Sunhame. She had believed in those things he taught, and he had sought to kill her.  
  
She clung to Estien, wrapping her arms tighter as she felt her world spin. She was a princess of the Blood and he had tried to kill her! The man that had taught her that royal blood entitled her to demand whatever she desired. Perhaps her contact with the Valdemarens had tainted her already. She just knew it. The Valdemarens were at fault for drawing her into their sinfulness. Well even if they had drawn her in, she was a princess. She didn't deserve to be hauled around and shot at. Things like this were not supposed to happen to her! She was a PRINCESS dammit all! Yfandena whimpered and began to quiver. She felt Estien turn in her arms, body trembling. "Let's wait a bit for Kant and Helan, Rolan. I don't think we have anymore pursuers." She heard him say into the air.  
  
"No."  
  
"What? Yfandena? Did you say something?" Estien craned his neck down to look at her, his tone tired.  
  
"No. I don't want to stop and wait." Yfandena's voice grew firmer as she spoke. She knew what she wanted, and it was not Haven. The priest had been willing to kill her to stop the infidels from taking her. She had almost been fooled by them. Estien's feigned goodness, but she knew his true nature. How had she been almost fooled? "I want you to turn around and take me back to Karse. Now. I don't belong here. I'm not going to go with you or your evil people."  
  
Estien remained silent for a few moments, simply staring down at her with his penetrating blue eyes. "Evil, huh? You know those evil people died today to keep you safe. They told me to get you away from the battle, that your one life was worth more than theirs. They fought, knowing they would only meet the Shadow-lover for all their fighting, just to give you a chance to get to Haven and make this treaty work. Just to secure a little peace for the people of both our lands. I don't know about you, but I would say that makes them pretty good people. Some of the best people, in fact."  
  
Yfandena could feel Estien's gaze boring into her. She refused to be cowed. She had nothing to lose. She raised her head and met his fire with some heat of her own. "I don't care. It was their choice. My life is worth more anyways. I'm a princess, they were common. I don't care about a stupid treaty I had no part in making. I don't care about people who fight or don't fight. I don't like being shot at. I don't like having people trying to kill me. I don't like riding on stupid horses for whole stupid days. I want to go home, and I want to go home now!" She could feel her throat close tighter and her voice grow shriller with panic. As long as she was with the unfaithful here, the priests and true followers of Vkandis would be after her.  
  
"As you so eloquently said before princess," Estien stated, the derision in his tone turning her title into an insult, "no."  
  
He gently unwrapped her arms from around his now rigid waist and placed them atop the ropes that still bound her to his horse's saddle. She took in a brief glimmer of disgust and anger before a mask like cold marble descended on his strong features. "You may not care for what happens to our countries, or for that matter your family, but I do. Your father has been a good friend to me and I, for one, would not like to see him deposed."  
  
A flash of guilt stabbed at Yfandena's heart for a moment. She had forgotten about her family. Her father and her mother, who had been kind to her. She broke her gaze away from Estien's, staring at the ground near Rolan's hooves, unwilling to show the doubts that began to eat away at her determination to return home. Well, on second thought, they had forced her to wed against her will. Perhaps they deserved their fate for thrusting her into such sin. For the sake of their people, another thought followed on ephemeral wings, because they had no other choice even though they loved her. The Valdemarens couldn't have really tainted her horribly either. After all, a firecat had visited her. A firecat that she had to earn, one of her very own. "Merit the blessings of a firecat," it, no Solara, had said.  
  
The thudding of hooves approaching closer broke through Yfandena's thoughts. She looked up sharply to see a vaguely white horse and rider near, both filthy with layers of caked blood and dirt coating every inch.  
  
"Kant! Are you and Helan alright?" Shouted Estien as his body suddenly gained animation. He waved his arms toward the approaching pair, concern radiating from him.  
  
The Companion and Herald approached closer, the Herald leaning a bit precariously to one side of his saddle. As the Companion stopped next to Rolan, Yfandena saw why. One of the Herald's legs bore a long deep gash with a white chunk of something suspiciously like bone jutting out of one end. She paled and turned her head away, but not before taking in a rain of blood dripping from the wound and pooling under the Companion. "No, Helan is injured. I think Helan is going to need a healer badly. She's pushed it to get here. Shouldna ridden her, but couldna really move me self. So'm I, injured I mean. 'Stien, I, I'm feelin a little dizzy. Help me off, huh? Should'n put weight on Helan."  
  
Estien vaulted off of Rolan's back, nearly hitting Yfandena in the process. "Careful there," he murmered softly as he supported a falling Kant and eased him onto the dirt road. He promptly stripped his own tunic and began to rip lengths of it, using the pieces of cloth to staunch Kant's bleeding leg. The Companion watched the ordeal for a few minutes before folding down on the ground herself. "Shh. hang on you two. Just a candlemark alright, hang on for just a mark. A healers coming, along with help. Just hang on."  
  
Yfandena felt Rolan walk closer to bleeding pair. She resolutely kept her head turned away from the scene. She was a princess after all, blood was not something that a princess had to deal with. Treating wounded people was messy work, and she was dirty enough as it was. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to ignore the whimpers of pain that could only be from the downed Companion at Rolan's feet.  
  
"Food to the hungry, aid to the needy. Tend to the sick, the poor, the least of men and you do Vkandis' work." The words of her childhood teacher, the one from her earliest memories, the kind old priest, echoed in her thoughts. The old man's face smiled at her through the years, his kindly eyes crinkled at the edges with masses of lines. Slowly those lines lengthened and darkened, turning into fur. In her mind's eye the eyes opened wide, exposing bright slit pupils that made her heart cry out: Solara. "Merit the blessings of a firecat." 


	16. Ch15

The cat's face grew larger and larger in her mind, the eyes staring at her, never blinking. Yfandena wrenched her eyes open. She would do the work of Vkandis then. She would earn her own firecat. Dena struggled to untie the ropes that bound her to Rolan's saddle, wincing as one of her delicate nails tore. It seemed an eternity before she was able to get the knots undone and wriggle onto the ground. Rolan gazed at her with an unreadable stare that made Yfandena pause to question what the horse was thinking. *Stupid. Horses don't think.* She berated herself.  
  
"Princess, what are you doing?" Estien's voice demanded from somewhere behind her. It held a hint of threat that was not lost on Yfandena.  
  
"Don't worry I won't run away." She growled, spinning around to face him, only to find that he was kneeling on the road, tying yet another makeshift bandage around the now semi-conscious Kant. "What can I do to help?"  
  
Estien simply grunted in response, concentrating on Kant's wound for a moment, before looking up at Yfandena. His face etched with lines of worry and exhaustion. "Take off your skirt."  
  
"What?!" Nearly shouted Yfandena. *Of all the lascivious.. .. I should have known! The minute he gets a chance. He's already disgraced me once, why would he hesitate to.. . Maybe I should run away.. . .*  
  
Estien released a long suffering sigh, looking up from his work and directly at Yfandena. "Look, we need more bandages. My tunic's not enough. I'd use my pants, but I fear that may offend your sensibilities. From what I know of women's fashion, you have bloomers or pantaloons or whatever you girls choose to call them now on under that skirt, so you'll be as covered as I am."  
  
"Oh.. ." she replied weakly, her arms almost unconsciously undoing the laces of her long skirt. She stepped out of it in a matter of moments. Looking around, she saw a knife handle jutting from a pouch on Rolan's saddle and reached for it. Drawing the object out, she began the work of tearing her skirt to pieces. Her lovely, new skirt.  
  
"If you will, I think I can do that faster. Come here and press on this wound for me." Estien motioned Yfandena near him. She responded quickly, placing trembling hands on Kant's leg. The wound had torn a bit more, and blood had already soaked through the bandages. As soon as he was reassured that Yfandena had her hands pressed firmly in the correct places, Estien jumped toward the remains of her skirt. Yfandena couldn't help but wince as she heard the sounds of him quickly ripping it to shreds.  
  
"Keep holding that wound. I'm going to see if I can help Helan. She's pretty badly cut too."  
  
Yfandena wondered how Estien was going to get the horse to stay still for treatment. Then again, given how it had collapsed behind her, she supposed the horse wouldn't put up much resistance. "Alright."  
  
She heard low moans of pain from the creature as Estien worked to staunch wounds on legs and side. The Herald that was before her seemed to twitch every time the horse moaned. There was so much blood everywhere. It pooled around the kneeling horse in a puddle of dark reddish mud. It seeped through the bandages she held on the Herald Kant's leg, covering her hands and soaking into her clothes. She cringed for a second, almost pulling her hands away. *No, if I let go, he'll bleed more.* A part of her shouted, causing her hands to remain. A fresh gush of liquid red ran through her fingers and dripped onto the road as she renewed her hands' pressure. *How much blood can a creature have?*  
  
As if in response to her unspoken thought, Estien came and knelt beside her, expression worried. "They're bleeding too much. A creature can take a lot of damage, but not this much. Here, move your right hand when I tell you to, I'm going to re-bandage that. I've done what I can, but the wounds are just too deep, and the blood won't stop. Kant won't last much longer without a Healer, and if anything happens to him, Helan won't make it either."  
  
Sadness gripped Dena's heart. She stood up and walked a little ways away from both the downed horse and rider. It confused her, the feeling of sadness. "Well. You deserve it."  
  
Estien jerked his head up sharply from Kant's leg, staring at Yfandena with incredulity. The look faded, replaced by a smoldering anger. Quickly finishing his bandaging, Estien rose, taking a menacing step toward Yfandena. She shrank back, looking away.  
  
"What did you say?" He asked, his tone perfectly neutral.  
  
"I-I.. . I said that you deserve all this. You brought it upon yourself, you know. If you weren't such an bad... ."  
  
Yfandena was cut short as Estien's hand landed on her cheek with a resounding smack. She stood stunned for a moment before collapsing onto the ground.  
  
"Why?" A hint of anguish crept into Estien's voice, as he glared at Yfandena on the ground. "What would make you say such a thing? Do you even know what I'm going through? My friends are dead! One is dying before my eyes, and I can't DO anything about it! What.. . WHY?"  
  
The girl raised a hand to her throbbing cheek. It felt hot under her fingertips, a tender throbbing that seemed to follow her heartbeat. She could feel tears building in her eyes, threatening to flood down that cheek in moments. "Why? Because I know you for what you are Valdemaren. I know that you are a man who lies. One who pretends to be good, but really, you're not. Are you? Deny it! Deny that you.. . . that you.."  
  
A sob closed her throat, rendering Yfandena silent as she struggled to conquer her grief. She could feel Estien continuing to stare at her.  
  
"That I what? What have I EVER done to you? Tell me. Tell me now! What... ." Estien's voice cracked with the weight of his emotions. His own voice failed him for a moment and silence reigned, punctuated only by the soft moans of the injured and Yfandena's sobs. Those sobs caused a fleeting memory to traipse his mind of a conversation not so long ago. Realization dawned. "You think I raped you."  
  
Yfandena looked up at him at the statement, tears flowing down her cheeks, her amber eyes brilliant with yet more tears. She could not force the words she wanted to say around the lump that blocked her throat. The curses she wanted to utter at the worthless Valdemaren lay impotent as more sobs wracked her slim frame.  
  
"My lady," Estien began in slow formal Karsite, his voice trembling with emotion. "I assure you that if anyone has ever besmirched your honor, it has never been me. Nothing occurred the night of our wedding but a well enacted ruse carried out by the Lady Terla and myself. Nothing. I would never take advantage of a lady in such a heinous act as you seem to have imagined me capable of committing."  
  
"But.. . Liar! I know! There was evidence.. ." Yfandena shouted back at him. She couldn't believe her ears. The man was denying that anything had occurred. Hadn't it been enough to hurt her so?  
  
"A ruse, Princess. One which the Herald Terla, may she be safe, planned well for a very important occasion." Estien continued in his stiffly formal manner.  
  
"You lie!" yelled Yfandena once again, jumping to her feet, only to have her legs give out from under her. A new onslaught of tears poured from her eyes as she buried her head in her arms and sobbed out over and over again, "Liar!"  
  
Soft footsteps made their way to her side, and a gentle hand stroked her hair. "Dena. It'll be okay.. .."  
  
Yfandena had no plans to let Estien finish. She twisted herself away from his outstretched hand, a sense of desperation lending energy to her grief heavy body. She shook with rage, standing completely still as she looked down at the man who knelt in front of her. He looked back at her, a sadness hanging from him. "Never," she hissed as she turned and ran, but not before glimpsing an approaching streak of white and green. Healer green. At least the Healer had arrived. 


	17. Ch16

Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers!!! MUAHAHA.. You were all very encouraging *smiles biiig* Sorry I haven't been able to update as quickly, but been swamped lately.. *apologizes profusely* Umm.. generally speaking, I wasn't inspired so much by the Storms series as the Herald-Mage ones. Yes, Yfandena is spoiled like Elspeth, but they're two completely distinct people-for one, Dena is a LOT older than Elspeth and correspondingly more set in her ways. Second, she doesn't have a Talia (T.T) poor kid. Haha.. I want a Talia.. But that's a completely different story... It isn't so much that Yfandena's character has changed, it's more that she's "returning" to herself. In the earlier chapters she was in sort of a state of shock and from now on out, (not to give too much away) you all are going to get to see the down right nasty kid she can be.. *rubs hands with glee* *evil laughter* Okay.. That was just an aside to answer some questions and stuff I've been getting~ ON WITH THE STORY!!  
  
Estien's thoughts were a jumble as he watched the girl-woman leap away and run as if her life depended on it.  
  
:. Rolan, follow her. .: He began, just as his Companion ghosted after the girl.  
  
His mind was just beginning to wrap around the concept. How could she have not known that the entire night had been a charade? Had her mother never told her.. . Estien thought back to his days spent in the company of the ever proper Queen Graeis. Well, he supposed that she probably wouldn't have brought up such a topic with her daughter. But still! What had given her the idea that he was capable of such an act?  
  
:. Let it go Chosen. There are more important things to debate right now. Like helping the approaching Healers, for one. I'll make sure the girl stays relatively close. You can retrieve her in a bit. .:  
  
Estien blessed his Companion, Sending a mental thanks in the condensed emotions that only an empathy could create as he ran toward the Companion- mounted Healers. "Over here! Kant is in trouble. He's lost a lot of blood. The Companion Helan is doing a bit better, but getting worse as well." He shouted, motioning the Healers toward the fallen pair. His heart leapt with hope as he recognized two of the most powerful Healers in Haven rushing to him in response. "Elstreth, Jeyse, what are you two doing here? What can I do to help?"  
  
The Healer Elstreth waved to him abstractly, as he dove toward the Companion Helan. "Stay out of the way. Van had a feeling you'd need us," he muttered just as he began to slip into a Healing trance. "Sent us right galloping a-way on some volunteer Companions, he did."  
  
A grin tugged at the corners of Estien's lips. Vanel, the elusive King's Own, was known for his incredible forsight, but not as a gift. "Plan, plan, and re-plan" was the oft repeated phrase that Van lived by. An interesting contrast since the man was so damn young, barely out of his childling years. Not that that had ever stopped the court ladies from chasing after him every chance that they got.  
  
:. He's about the same age as your lady wife actually. .: Came Rolan's wry, and unasked for, reply. :. Don't you feel like the cradle-robber, Granfer? Or should I add you to the ranks of the Van-chasers? .:  
  
:. Shuddup Horse. .: Estien Sent right back, savoring Rolan's crisp laughter. He could feel his own good humor returning as he watched the Healers, whose number had mysteriously grown to five while he had been lost in his own thoughts, attend his injured fellows. Well, fellow and lady. Turning to no one in particular he asked, "How're they doing?"  
  
An old fellow broke off from the group surrounding Kant, rising in an exaggerated stretch as he turned to face Estien. "He's doing fine," the Healer smiled tiredly. With a quick knowing glance at Helan he continued, "So's she. They're both going to be out of service for some time, but they'll live. Suspect he'll have a limp for the rest of his life though. Too much damage was done to the nerves, muscle, and bone for it to mend completely sound."  
  
Estien breathed out a sigh of relief, that quickly faded as the Healer approached closer to him. "How about you, Highness? Do you feel alright?"  
  
Sweat drops gathered on Estien's forehead. He'd never really liked meeting Healers in a professional capacity. The way they prodded and poked at a man, always asking matter of fact questions about even the most private aspects of life. "Umm.. . I'm fine. I-I need to go check on the Princess."  
  
"Are you sure? I don't like the looks of that cut on your arm... ."  
  
"Fine!" Estien nearly shouted, as he beat a hasty retreat toward the copse where Rolan had herded Yfandena. He really did have to go to her, after all. 


	18. Ch17

Strong teeth gripped Dena's shoulder, hard, causing pain to shoot down her arm and back. Gasping, Dena struggled away from the white horse that had suddenly materialized before her.  
  
"Get away!" She screamed at the animal, the demon horse. Stories of unholy white creatures eating children in the darkness of night flitted through Dena's head. *Demons! That's why the priest came after me! To associate with these, mother, father.. . . why?*  
  
:.Dena. .: A surprisingly masculine voice interrupted the train of Dena's thoughts. Turning frantically about, Dena saw no one and nothing except trees and the demon horse. The demon horse, who's blue eyes seemed to engulf her in pools of swirling waters. Gasping, Dena dropped to the ground, curling into a protective ball, hands over her ears. She would not succumb to the tricks of a demon! :.Please, Dena. We are not trying to hurt you... You must believe me. Me, Estein, we are friends. .:  
  
*No, no, no, no!! The demons are not to be trusted, that's why the priest came after me. That MUST be why the priests came after me. The evil Valdemarens! Look what's already happened. All the blood, the injured. They did it. Not the Karsites. It wasn't us, it was them....*  
  
A cold point of moisture touched Dena's exposed forehead, followed by a gentle rumbling purr. :.Dena! Please... .:  
  
*Solara!* Dena recognized the voice immediately. She had resisted the infidels, and now Solara had come to save her. She just knew it. Thoughts of golden rewards and heroic quests flitted through her mind. Solara would take her back to Karse and the priest would know she had been cleansed. Her countrymen would take her back, and she would never be forced near the heathens again.  
  
Dena slowly raised her head and looked up, taking in the sight of the firecat sitting regally upon the grass. Her eyes grew wider as she realized the demon horse stood just behind Solara's twitching tail. *What's going on? Why is the demon horse still here? This must be an illusion. . .*  
  
:. I assure you Yfandena, this is no illusion. I am not here to claim you. I'm here to warn you. .: Dena felt her face grow pale and, trembling, felt her hands drop to the ground beside her. She watched in horror as Solara sauntered toward the pale nightmare. Then, feelings of betrayal and confusion warred in Dena's mind as the firecat gently pounced onto its back. :. Dena, listen to me. I AM NOT THE ONE THAT HAS BETRAYED YOU. Think, my darling. Think back to everything you have seen these past days, your entire life! Has anything EVER happened to you that would make you think these Valdemarens evil but the words of your uncle and his priest? Was it not the Valdemarens that risked so much to save you from him and his? .:  
  
The world seemed to spin for a moment as Dena began to try and grasp Solara's words. Her mind went dark and light, cold and hot all at once. She could not. . . :. Dena! No, stay with me! I MUST tell you now. That which you think happened to you, never happened! Estein is beyond reproach. ALL Heralds are, and will always be! You can always trust the Heralds Dena. Only trust them now, trust them as you trust the Sunlord. .: The world continued to spin in a whirling mass of color and light. Dena felt blackness begin to engulf her, as her head slowly descended back toward the ground. She could not comprehend. . . The Heralds were infidels, demons, evil. . .  
  
:.Your father and mother were betrayed and killed by Resric, as you were attacked by his priest. Do you understand Dena? You must know this! I am an avatar of the Sunlord, Dena please, trust in me to guide you! .: Soft fur rubbed against Dena's cheek as the rumbling purr grew stronger and suddenly nearer. :. My darling, you must be strong. There are those who seek to rule Karse and all that lie around it. Dena, there are some who blame the deaths of your family on Valdemar, saying that Valdemar seeks to rule Karse through you. Kares will become splintered by the power-seekers, many of whom will be seeking your life. You must remain. . . .:  
  
Solara's voice drifted into nothing as oblivion stole over Dina's mind. 


	19. Ch18

Author's note: I apologize for not updating anywhere near regularly. I have been trying to write out as much of this story as possible. Unfortunately, as happens in some cases, the characters I've been developing have lost a lot of their appeal for me. HaHaHa. Actually, to put it mildly, Dena bugs the crap out of me and half the time I want to smack her, so it makes me not want to write (-.-). On the other hand, Estein's a sweetie!! Gah~ But that really doesn't help too much in the long run (.).  
  
As for everyone who reviewed. . . THANK YOU! All your feedback was much appreciated. And to answer some questions: this story happened very early in Valdemar's history, back when Valdemar and Karse were very different from what they were in even Vanyel's time (hey, it all had to start somewhere!!) and Vkandis hadn't become (quite) the obsessive religion in Karse that it became. Also, I realize the names sound recycled and very familiar. HeHeHe. . . that's actually the point. Reincarnation is actually a big part of Velgarth (Misty's fun little world), and I thought I'd experiment a bit with it. BUT! No more hints on that line, cuz it'll give my story away. (^.^)  
  
As for Rolan, he wasn't always the Grove-born. Taver was for a while, and I'm sure there were others. Anyway, the whole thing with Rolan in this story is indulging my personal theory that Grove-born stallions were rulers or attached to rulers in the past and retain a lot of the memories they had from their experiences (which is why they're all good at giving advice!!).  
  
*glomps readers* I dunno why. HeHe. Mostly cuz I know that was an annoyingly long author's note. . . So on with the story!! ~~~~~~~~  
  
Darkness surrounded everything. Dena felt it wrap around her, numbing her and protecting her. She had never liked the dark as a child, had in fact insisted on always having candles wherever she went. But now, it held an odd comfort. The dark: away from reality and the voices. She could hear the voices crying out to her, telling her to go somewhere, but she didn't want to go. Answering would bring her into the light, she knew, and she liked the dark now. It was peaceful, true. . . honest.  
  
~ * ~  
  
It could happen: a snow-white horse, its silvery mane dancing in the wind, gently caressing a cat with the end of its nose. At least that was what the young guardsman told himself as he stood in the little grassy grove, helping the Healers and Heralds organize to get the last of the gear and wounded back to Haven. That is, it could happen, if one ignored the fact that the cat was more the size of a dog. One of those large deer-hunting dogs the nobles kept. The ones that could easily tear a man in two.  
  
The guard felt a trickle of sweat run down his neck which he promptly swatted at with one hand, while rubbing his eyes with the other. The sight didn't go away on a second look. Actually, it got a bit more bizarre, as he could swear the cat looked as if it was grieving. Not just the sad mewing that the furry critters do once in a while, but full on grief: heartbreaking tears and all. What's more, it looked as if the horse, with its incredibly blue eyes slightly darkened, sympathized.  
  
Closing his eyes, the guard shook his head as if to shake the vision away. Counting briefly to three, he opened his eyes again. The vision remained. *Damn queer 'eralds and them 'erald critters* was all the response he could think of. Fortunately, being a very stolid man, the guardsman returned to his duties with a final shake of his head, determined to forget the whole sad scene. The two 'critters', on the other hand, got no such respite from grief felt and shared.  
  
:.You didn't feel her Rolan. .: wailed Solara, thick with guilt and despair, into the Companion's head. :.You didn't feel the hopelessness, the hate, and the. . . I was supposed to GUIDE her! All this time, all I did, I. . . .:  
  
Rolan projected back calm, trying to soothe the stricken firecat as her mind-voice stumbled, overwhelmed by emotions. :.Dear one, it isn't your fault. You know it isn't. You didn't do anything. .:  
  
:.Exactly!.: sent Solara, cutting off whatever Rolan had meant to say. :.I should have done more, and I didn't. I was too damn proud and too damn sure that she was still nothing but a brat. I didn't check, I didn't try to see what else was happening. I was just so sure of myself, and now I can't even reach her. It's like she's there but she isn't, and it's all my fault. . ..:  
  
:.Stop. .: Interrupted Rolan, in turn. :.Solara, this wallowing is getting neither you nor Yfandena anywhere. You've heard the Healers, she's alive, and that's what counts. She's been hurt emotionally, yes. Could you have helped her? Perhaps, perhaps not. You made the right decisions given what you knew. .:  
  
:.No, I. . . .:  
  
:.Yes. You did. I probably would have done the same. .: Sent Rolan firmly, stomping down his silvery front hoof for emphasis. :.She was not ready and you do not Choose unless your Chosen calls to you. .:  
  
The firecat sniffed, a fat tear rolling down her soft creamy fur. Her mind- voice barely a whisper :.But, I'm not a Companion. .:  
  
Rolan leaned down to nuzzle the mewing lump at his feet. Gently, he cradled the firecat using his head and foreleg. :.Sister of my heart, that isn't the point. The point is that she was not ready, and who knows what other problems would have occurred had you been with her completely from the beginning. You know the saying, 'hindsight is ever perfect,' but we need to look forward now. .:  
  
The Companion felt a slight ease in the turbulent grief that had been hanging over him and the firecat for at least a candlemark. With a sigh of relief, he sincerely hoped that some of what he was saying and had been saying had finally sunk in. Sending wordless waves of reassurance and love, Rolan encourage Solara to her feet with a gentle shove of his nose. :. Dear heart, we are only mortal. You heard the Healers, Yfandena is physically fine. She should be swathed in the downiest bed in the palace by now, as protected as a priceless treasure. You should join her and make sure she knows this. .:  
  
:. Yes, I suppose it is time I act the firecat I am. .: Solara replied, nodding slightly as if to herself. Rolan watched as she almost visibly fought off the emotions that had nearly drowned her moments ago. Silently he stood as she collected herself, banishing darker thoughts in order to act effectively. It was not in her nature to wallow long, but she had felt too much of a burden not to indulge a little this once, but now the wallowing was over. She would be okay now. She had more important things to do. He knew this, and more importantly, she knew this.  
  
:.Alright. .: Rolan Sent as Solara finally shook herself into a more or less calm state. :. So, phsysically Yfandena is okay. Mentally. . . .:  
  
:.Mentally, she is in shock. .: Solara replied quietly, mind still colored with guilt, although not the verdant flood it had been ealier. :.Everything that's happened, it's broken her, and she doesn't want to face any of it anymore. I can't reach her, and neither can any of the Healers or Heralds. .:  
  
Rolan contemplated, his blue eyes gazing up at the sky. :.As long as she's physically okay, we're okay by the treaty. So that buys us a few days, maybe weeks. However, she's not going to stay healthy if she doesn't regain consciousness soon. So the question is, what do we do? .:  
  
Solara looked up to meet the twin pools of blue that now focused on her own silver streaked eyes. They were like whirlpools, sucking her into their depths, reminding her of something good and eternal. Eternity. Then it occurred to her, the answer that should have been so obvious. :.Pray. I will pray to Vkandis and hope that Dena decides that life is worth living despite everything. After all, the Sunlord can and will guide the lost home, but the lost have to be willing to follow. .: 


	20. Ch19

Little hammers. That was what it felt like, decided Vanel. Little hammers pounding the inside of his head--or perhaps a band of mad drummers, marching to their own sort of twisted, sadistic rhythm.  
  
:. How perfectly poetic, love. It's too bad you're not a bard, you could compose trite melodies to match your. . .how to put this kindly? . . . .:  
  
Vanel bit back the retort that jumped into his mind. His Companion was quick of wit, quicker than Van most of the time anyway, and definitely sharper of tongue. It was better not to get into a battle of needling. It was a risky gamble at the best of times, and the King's Own was currently not in the mood to bet on anything. There was already too much risk in the air with the Karsite governments collapsing, Karsite fanatics threatening, and Karsite princesses collapsing.  
  
:. Damn it Tyl. I'm not in the mood. Does nothing come from Karse these days but terror and trouble? .:  
  
Van knew he was ranting. Van knew he was taking out his anger on Tylden. Van knew this, and it made his head hurt. It made the pounding begin with renewed vigor. Damn the little drummers, he thought, walking along the edge of a newly-made fence. The grass on the other side was a supernaturally green color, fine as the most expensive carpet. Companion's Field, the visiting peasants were calling it now.  
  
A white stallion approached the fence from inside the field, ears flattened onto his head, and penitence in his expression despite the proud elegance written into every last shimmering hair. :. Sorry Van-love. I was just teasing. I know you're in a tough spot at the moment, and you know I'll always be here to support you. .:  
  
"I know," sighed Vanel, brushing slender fingers through his dark hair. "Can we just walk a little, I need some air and quiet."  
  
Whickering kindly, Tylden eyed his Chosen carefully as the two began their usual trek toward Companion's Grove and the little forest that seemed to be growing well around it. Not for the first time, the Companion found himself wishing for human hands to ease the tension pulling Vanel's shoulder muscles wire-tight, visible even beneath his loose white cloak.  
  
Silently, Tylden wondered what had happened this time. A strict believer in privacy, Vanel insisted on shielding him out of the private, often emotional, meetings that Estien sometimes required. "Confessionals," Van had called them, insisting that morality demanded some confidentiality. Of course, given that Tyl was more or less in Van's head, he'd hear everything sooner or later. It was just one of those quirks about his Herald that the Companion had gotten used to over time.  
  
Well maybe not too long a time, Tylden realized, as he thought back to their first meeting. :.Love, do you realize we've really only been together for a year? .: Sent Tylden gently, hoping to break the air of depression that was quickly building around his handsome Chosen. Staring at Van, Tylden couldn't help but admire his lean but muscular frame and the face that had so many of the court ladies swooning in delight. And the lips that made them want to do more than just swoon. . .*If I was just human, what I would like to do with those lips. . .*  
  
Vanel, hardly oblivious to the turn his Companion's mind was slowly taking, reached out a loving hand to stroke his silky mane. :.Can't be helped, my love. Given some of what those Karsite rebels are preaching though, I'm kind of glad you're a Companion. Otherwise, having me as King's Own would be one more strike against Valdemar: especially since I'm sure I'd never be able to live without you. Maybe, gods willing, someday though. . . .:  
  
Chuckling a little, Vanel wove his fingers through Tylden's mane in continuous caresses. It was hard, though few knew it was even possible, to be life-bonded to one's Companion. Not that he was wanting in any sort of indulgence, but it just wasn't the same. Nothing could compare or compensate for the vision of the lithe young man that danced in his mind's eye every time he dreamed of Tylden. Or talked with Tyl, or walked with Tyl. . .  
  
With a sigh, Van stopped walking. They were near enough to Companion's Grove now that Van could feel the mystical pulse the place seemed to generate. He wondered, not for the first time, what the place must look like to a true mage's eyes. Despite the fact that he could work some small weather magics, his mage sight was next to nothing. He could barely see a shimmer of the light that Minna had told him surrounded the Grove. *Minna. . . Josen. . .Estien, he. . .* Abrubtly, Van shielded his thoughts tightly.  
  
:.Love, sometimes it's okay to let it out. : Prompted Tylden gently, sensing what plagued his Chosen's mind before Van was able to shield. Ethics were all well and good, but Tylden wanted Van to know that nothing was unacceptable between the two of them. That he could trust Tylden as surely as he trusted himself. The bond was still a little new after all, for all that the two of them had been together for a year. Not for the first time, it occurred to the Companion that some sort of extended training period might not be a bad idea. One where the bond between Companion and Chosen could be strengthened and built on in safety, where the pairings could learn all they needed to learn.  
  
Still laden with grief, Van's mind nonetheless responded to the twist of Tylden's. :.You're right in some ways, but that's what we have mentorships for. Although something a little more organized might not be an entirely bad idea. Do you realize that the Healers are planning on setting up some sort of school? A "collegium" they're planning to call it. Like the schools the old churgeons were rumored to have. .:  
  
:.Collegium? Hmm. . . Perhaps something to consider, but not now. You're changing the subject Chosen. I know your ethics, but sometimes you need to vent too. Now what's going on? .: Demanded Tylden, this time with a little more force.  
  
Vanel hesitated. He was still unsure, but the waves of promised understanding and, well, rightness that exuded from the Companion would not be denied. Eventually, Van's walls broke and Tylden won the silent battle. :.Es. . .Estien. The girl, Princess Yfandena. It's all a mess. He's upset because of. . .well Minna, Josen, Karse, the girl, EVERYTHING. She. . .she thought he'd raped her and she's catatonic. What's worse, Estien thinks that the rumors about her temper might have been true--which is ACTUALLY making him feel GUILTIER because "this might have ruined any chance of redeeming her." . Did I mention the girl is catatonic? None of the Healers can reach her! Not even Jenthra, and you know she's the best MindHealer in the kingdom. I don't know what we're going to do if the girl dies, Tyl. I really don't! That's going to give Resdic or Resric, whatever his name is, enough leverage to openly declare war on us. There's even talk in Karse that some of the clergy are building up to depose the Son of Sun next, for supporting the treaty to begin with. If she dies. . . there's going to be hell. And my dreams aren't helping .:  
  
Tylden listened carefully to the flood of thoughts which he had released, soothing Vanel where he could, but his ears stood at alert as Van mentioned dreams. :.Dreams? Tell me. .: Sent the Companion shortly.  
  
:.I. . .I've been having dreams about demons Tyl. Like shadows they stalk around houses and I hear screaming. That's it. That's all, but somehow I know they're from Karse. Sometimes, I can feel myself fighting them, but it's all so distant. Almost like it will never happen, but somehow I know it will. .:  
  
:.And the girl? Do any of your dreams. . . .:  
  
With a sigh, Van shook his head. :.I know my Gift, Tyl. I've tried and tried, but everything around the girl. . .it's fogged and tangled. There's just too many paths. Karse too. I'll tell you something strange though. They're connected, of course, but somehow not as strongly as Valdemar is connected to her, and it's about more than just the treaty. .:  
  
Tylden's blue-eyes grew slightly in wonder. For all that the gods allowed him to know more of their ways than other earthbound creatures, they hadn't chosen to reveal this particular tidbit of information. It was something he was definitely going to have to ponder on: a spoiled Karsite princess and Valdemar. Perhaps it was time to walk the Sacred Paths again. 


	21. Ch20

Vanel gazed out the large window by his bed, admiring the star strewn night sky. It was nice to look up at the stars without having to face the cold world outside his bed. The large window, paned with a remarkable sheet of thick, clear glass had been a gift from Estien when the king had learned how much his new King's Own enjoyed star-gazing. Well actually, thought Van to himself, it wasn't that he particularly liked star-gazing. It was more they mesmerized him. The way the stars moved, as if mapping out the course of human existence and whispering secrets of what was to come: it was just that much easier for him to part the veils of time when he gazed up at those eternally bright spheres dancing in the night. Everything seemed clearer, somehow.  
  
Well, almost everything. With a sigh, Van rolled over onto his stomach. The mysteries of the morning were still as clouded as ever. Perhaps, clouded wasn't the right word. More like knotted. Closing his eyes, he sent his mind racing to trace through all the tangles of time he had seen. It was seldom that he encountered anything so complicated. Even with his Gift, he just couldn't See exactly what was going to happen. It was damn frustrating to be so. . .so. . . *mortal* Van realized with a slight smile of chagrin. *So stop being an idiot about it because mortal is what you are, and you can't do anything about it. You're relying too much on that damn Sight, again.*  
  
Van, touched the tips of his long fingers to his temples, rubbing firmly to dispel the last of his trance fog. It was time to stop acting like a mystic and start acting like a King's Own, making plans based off facts not Foresight. *Probably like I should have been doing all along* Van thought with a sigh. He waited for just a moment, sure that Tylden would have some sort of retort ready and scathing. Blinking his eyes, Van stared into his pillow. His Companion was being curiously silent tonight, but emanating a sense of peace. *Sleeping then, which really is what any sane creature should be doing at this hour* he thought, flipping himself onto his back. Listening, he heard silence, punctuated by faraway footsteps. Healers, he thought to himself; which inevitably brought his mind to dwell on the Karsite Princess languishing in a suite somewhere in the nearby Healer's wings. Jenthra still hadn't even been able to reach her. "Hiding," is what she had called the Princess. He certainly would have liked to see for himself. Perhaps tomorrow he would try again to persuade the Healers to give him a chance to try his own powerful, if a bit untrained, empathic Gift. But for now, it was time to get some sleep--hopefully, without the nightmares. The King's Own shivered slightly. Just thinking of those dark demons lurking in the shadowy corners, jumping out at. . .  
  
Vanel screamed as a large object shot onto his bed. Or at least, he opened his mouth to scream, but the sound failed to come out.  
  
:.Really. Heralds. You're almost as bad as your Companions. Now shush so we can talk. I'm hardly a demon and you're a bit bony to eat. .: Sent what proved to be an enormous cat. At least, Van assumed it was the cat, since his senses told him that nothing else was in the room.  
  
:Of course it's me, idiot. What else would be talking to you? Your bedpost? .: rang an amused voice in Van's head, as the cat curled itself on top of Van's feet, curiously clear blue eyes fixed on his face. :. 'Curiously clear blue eyes'? You should really stop broadcasting all your thoughts like this. Very unprofessional. Are you really the King's Own?.:  
  
Vanel shook his head, firmed his shields, and tried to clear his head. A cat was talking to him. Albeit, he didn't find it too strange, given that he spent most of his time in the company of a talking horse. Nonetheless, it was just a bit disconcerting. "Umm, exactly, what. . .umm. . . who, no. . . WHAT are you?"  
  
:.My NAME is Solara. And I'm a friend. .:  
  
"A friend?" Van repeated.  
  
The cat began to purr, rubbing its, no Vanel thought. . . HER, head a bit on the blanketed lump that was Vanel's knee. :.Friend. And, what's more, my friend needs your help. .:  
  
"Help?" Van gaped a little.  
  
:.Are you really just going to keep repeating whatever I say? .: Shot Solara, raising her head to glare slightly at Vanel. The languidness of her pose suddenly gone, the large feline rose to sit, her head very much level with Vanel's own. :.Look, you were tense and I was trying to relax you a bit, but if your brain has gone to complete mush, at least go find me another MindHealer for Yfandena. .:  
  
"Yfandena?" repeated Van, before shaking his head to gather his wits once again. "Wait, you know the Karsite princess? She has the best MindHealer in the country attending her, and she just can't be reached!"  
  
Solara shook her head slightly, causing her long whiskers to brush against one of Van's hands. :.VALDEMAR'S Princess now, and you are a strong MindHealer, you go try. .:  
  
Van looked into the slightly accusing blue eyes that dared him to give her reasons why he wasn't by the "Valdemaren" Princess's side already. Well, he had one, and a good one. It was one thing for him to muse to himself about aiding the Princess, quite another for someone to really have him try it. "Look, cat, I WILL BE a strong MindHealer. But I'm not fully trained right now. That's why I haven't been allowed near her in the first place. I very easily could lose myself while just trying to get to her, and what good would that do anyone?"  
  
A wave of sadness washed over Vanel. He knew even without his Empathy that it came from the cat Solara. :.I. . .I just want someone else to try. You're. . .I. . . but you're the ONLY MindHealer that hasn't tried to reach her. You've got to try. .: Van felt the cat wail into his mind.  
  
Sighing, Van nodded slightly. He'd always been a sucker for weeping women, even if those women happened to be feline. Besides which, something, though not quite Forsight kept nagging at him, telling him that perhaps he could make a difference to the catatonic young woman. He had tried to pin it, but the feeling had fled. It was the same feeling that had driven him to consider bothering the fiery Healer Jenthra for some time with the Princess tomorrow.  
  
*Well, no time like the present,* Van thought to himself. Again he paused, hoping that Tylden had sensed his Chosen's active thoughts, despite sleep. Van sensed nothing though, and sighed. He'd been sighing an awful lot lately, he realized turning yet another impeding sigh into a sort of half cough. "Okay ca. . .er. . . Solara. Let's go see Yfandena." 


	22. Ch21

Estien sat alone, darkness washing over him. Well, as alone as a Herald could be, anyway.  
  
:.Oh tail-less one, what exactly are you doing?.:  
  
:.Quiet grass-grubber. I'm thinking. .: Estien felt Rolan snicker in his mind as he Sent. :.Okay, maybe I am being a little dramatic, but we are in a rather dramatic situation, aren't we? .:  
  
:.Yes, you do have a point there. .: replied Rolan thoughtfully. Neither he nor Estien could deny that the situation was a very tense one.  
  
The detailed reports of the Karse situation that Estien had read over after his arrival were actually worse than the short battle-briefs that he had received through Rolan on the road. The traitorous Resric was consolidating power. After murdering his own sister and brother-in-law, he had moved on to depopulating the court of their supporters and filling there places with his own people. Often people rumored to have dark pasts, people rumored to have dealt with demons, people who were feared by the remaining courtiers beyond all reason.  
  
It was a grisly and depressing series of reports indeed. Estien closed his eyes, feeling the tears well up. Albencht had been a staunch friend, sharing Estien's thirst for knowledge and balancing it with rare wit and humor. And Graeis. . . This time Estien felt the tears fall down his cheeks. She had been half older sister and half mother to him: always supportive in her grace and wisdom, especially after his own mother had past away all those years ago. Then there were the lists of entire families killed. He still remembered many of them: the Mikorics with their five bright-eyed smiling daughters, the Lord Harvrad with his beloved new wife, and the strong-willed Sir Langen whose love of swordplay was only matched by his passion for singing.  
  
:. Brother, please. It is not good for you to dwell on these things alone, perhaps you need to speak to Van again? .: Sent Rolan gently, interrupting the litany of lost names and faces that danced through Estien's memory. Sensing his Chosen's reluctance to disturb the King's Own, Rolan came up with another suggestion. :. Put on a cloak and come. I cannot ease your grief as astutely as Van can, but I can certainly give you a shoulder to cry on. .:  
  
A little numbly, Estien sent his agreement. Rolan, as usual, was right. It wasn't good for him to dwell on the dead alone, if to dwell on them at all. Besides which, the cold air outside would at least rejuvenate him. Estien's head was already starting to pound from tears shed and unshed.  
  
The Herald-Prince slipped out from his bed and wiggled his feet into the slippers that waited below. Debating exactly how cold the night air would be, Estien decided to just follow advice and grab a cloak from his wardrobe. It wasn't as if anyone would see him wandering in his sleeping clothes. Sane people were asleep at this ungodly hour and, with that thought, Estien slipped out of his room as quieter than ever his weaponsmaster had taught him. Stealth was a useful skill and one that he had cultivated well over years of sneaking in and out of dark bedrooms.  
  
The slow groan of poorly oiled hinges broke the silence that surrounded Estien, startling him. Instinctively, he dove into a shadowed recess in the wall, looking around him to see who else was about at this time of night. Quickly enough, he had his answer, as he saw an unfashionably cropped dark-haired head poke out the door to a room he knew very well.  
  
*What is that boy out of bed at this hour?* Estien almost muttered to himself. If anything, Van should have been star-gazing out the window that Estien had helped build at the behest of his father. *After all the hard work I put in too.*  
  
:. Psha, Chosen you enjoy woodworking and you know it. Plus, the king just asked you to have SOMEONE make it, you volunteered to build that window. .: Rolan sent tartly at Estien's pedestrian line of thought.  
  
:. Well, apple-muncher, I'll be honest. I'm not so much angry as curious. Romance is out of the picture, so what is he up to at this hour? .: Estien replied, sneaking himself out of the shadowy depths to follow after the King's Own. :. Any ideas? .:  
  
Rolan paused before answering. :. I do, actually, and as such I highly recommend you follow him. .:  
  
Surprised at his Companion's ready agreement to what would normally be considered the borderline morality of prying, Estien's curiosity quickly grew from a flame to a fire: a fire which was just a touch angry at his Companion for keeping secrets. :. Plan on enlightening me then, oh great and mighty one? .:  
  
Again Rolan paused. :. No, it would be better if you just followed . . . but be careful Estien, and -- no -- don't let Van see you. You'll scare the living daylights out of him. .: 


	23. Ch22

I'm following a talking cat big enough to rip me apart, down a dark corridor, to try and heal the apparently shattered mind of a foreign princess. Right. Nothing unusual here. . . Grimaced Vanel, running a hand through hair growing a bit damp with sweat.  
  
:.You forgot to add that Valdemar's future hangs on her health, and that the most skilled mind-healers in the country have already tried and failed to revive her. .: Came the reply as crisp as summer apples.  
  
:. Why Tyl, you sound so positively cheerful, I do believe I may have to kick you later. With spurs. .:  
  
:. Tsk. Van, no need to get testy. There's a sharp corner coming up, be careful. .:  
  
Vanel sent a fleeting shot of gratitude for the warning, glaring a bit at the feline guide leading him. It would have been nice if the cat, no. . .Solara. . .had said something. It was almost as if Solara's sole purpose had been to convince him to help, and she saw her job as complete, leaving Van floundering behind her. At least, he would have been mostly floundering without Tyl in his mind as a semi-guide. It was like a conspiracy of talking animals. Wait a minute. . . :. You're hiding something from me. .:  
  
Immediately, a wave of love washed over Vanel like a soothing balm as Tylden replied, though with little contrition, :. Love, I was just teasing. We're not hiding anything. Solara is a bit preoccupied and I know the corridors well, that's all. The situation really is rather grave. .:  
  
:. Tell me something I don't know. .: Shot back Vanel, a bit waspishly.  
  
Van could almost feel the indignant snort emanating from his beloved Companion. :. Vanel. . . .:  
  
:. I know, I know. I'm sorry Tyl. Following strange creatures down to see stranger princesses to try and fix impossible situations is making me a bit nervous, you know. .: This time, it was Vanel's turn to sooth ruffled feelings. For a Companion and Herald, we do butt heads an awful lot, he thought to himself, carefully, in the deepest recesses of his mind. Sometimes, I wonder if we weren't really meant to be something other than what we are. Something, a little less in one another's minds.  
  
:. It is not for us to always inquire the 'what if,' .: a richly velvet voice whispered in his mind. :. For if Vkandis' has willed it so, then it must be for a purpose. All things have a purpose, King's Own, and the question of purpose is perhaps where your mind would be better used. .:  
  
A bit shocked at the reply, Vanel faultered for a moment in his steps. :. Solara? You heard me? .:  
  
:. Do not worry. I heard you, your Companion did not. I do not know why. .: Came the amusement soaked reply. :. Seriously though, we approach. Please, King's Own, do your best. .:  
  
Vanel bit down on his lower lip. Van knew that some Heralds liked to come here for the peace the Healers always seemed to exude, but for him the peace was nothing compared to the pain and loneliness that seeped into his mind whenever he stepped in this section of the palace. He had never liked the hospital wing, even before his empathy had come into full force. It smelled too much like healing herbs and the distilled alcohol the healers' used to rinse their instruments, reminding him of illness and the finality of death.  
  
:. Peace, Herald. Keep your thoughts positive, the Princess awaits behind the door. .: Sent Tylden with a gentle mental nudge. :. You'll need all the positive energy you can muster. .:  
  
:. Right. .: Nodding as much to himself as to his Companion, Vanel stared for a moment at the blank brown of the room door. For your kingdom, Herald. Right. One, two, three. . . With a sharp intake of breath, Van pushed open the door and stepped inside to face whatever lay on the other side. 


	24. Ch23

The mustiness of the room hit him first, wrapping around Vanel like a moist, warm blanket rich with the scent of herbs. Pepperfern, asilim, listerel: he identified by scent. Herbs used to revive or rejuvenate. The Healers must have been burning it in the room earlier. Well, seeing as how the girl had not been revived, there was no need for him to continue standing about with the heat and moisture making his skin crawl.  
  
:. Open a window then, King's Own. .: A somewhat sarcastic voice echoed in his head.  
  
:. I was about to, thank you. .: He Sent back to the firecat with just as much acidity. Solara had moved toward the Princess's bed, and was now perched near the girl's pale, still form, just obscuring the Princess's face from Van's view. :. Now, if I can just get these drapes open first. It's just too blasted dark in here to see! .:  
  
Moving with care in the darkness, Van reached out and threw open the heavy cloth, allowing moonlight to stream in and illuminate the room. Everything seemed to glow eerily bathed in the white light. Moonlight: beautiful yet so odd. One never knows what ghosts dance by that. . .  
  
:. Oh, will you stop wasting time already! .: Solara's voice cut into Van's thoughts. :. You're here to try to help Yfandena, not to poeticize about the moonlight! Now come here and help her boy, or I'm going to start applying claw to flesh in fairly short order. .:  
  
Van watched as Solara flexed her paws for emphasis. Very large paws, he realized with a grimace.  
  
:. She's right Van. Stop stalling, and go do what you can. .: Tylden chimed in.  
  
:. I know, I know. .: replied Van to both his antagonists. There was more to this than either of them knew. He wasn't just stalling. He had felt Yfandena from the moment he had entered the room, and what awaited there scared him. Or more acutely, what doesn't wait there. :. Do either of you realize that she has absolutely NO trace of personality? It's as if her spirit has completely fled her body, cutting all connections to this world. I mean, most Mindhealers have seen something like this in patients that have experienced a lot of trauma, but usually there's still some sort of connection left. That's what the Healers use to call the spirit back. Only, there's nothing here. Absolutely no trace. Like death. .:  
  
Solara visibly bristled as Vanel explained what he felt. :. Well, she's NOT dead if she's still breathing! .:  
  
:. I know! I just don't understand this. .: The King's Own searched through his memory for anything that could help him in this situation, wishing (not for the first time) that he had more experience to call upon. Gods, you'd think that as King's Own I'd be gifted with some sort of superior knowledge, but no. I'm just as mortal as the next Herald. If only there was a way to transcend mortality, a way for the King's Own, at least, to access knowledge in-continuum. Perhaps through the Companion? Something to remember to ask for in the after-life, I suppose. A supernatural connection between two. . .Wait! :. Tyl, Solara. She's not connected to her own body, but the Princess is connected to other things in this world, isn't she? If firecats are like Companions, than shouldn't the bonds be similar too? .:  
  
Van felt Solara's blue-eyes bear down on him, blinking once slowly. :. No, they are similar but not alike. What's more, Yfandena and I have yet to be bonded. She was not ready. .:  
  
The King's Own felt his heart sink. Pulling up a nearby chair to the side of Yfandena's bed, Van sank down in its leathery arms and looked at the pale face of the Karsite Princess before him. He imagined the lips smiling, the eyes open and twinkling with laughter. It was a striking face.  
  
:. You'd make quite the pair, Chosen. .: Tylden Sent solemnly. :. You do make quite the pair. .:  
  
That caught his attention. He could always tell when Tylden was hiding something, and he had sensed it since the whole Yfandena affair had begun. :. What do you mean, love? Don't lie to me. Tell me everything this time. .:  
  
To Van's surprise, it was Solara --not Tylden-- that answered his questions. :. I may not be connected with her yet, Vanel, but you are. No, we don't know why exactly, but you are connected. Very like a lifebond, actually. .:  
  
"What? How?" Vanel found himself shouting, "I'm already lifebonded!"  
  
:. It's not a lifebond exactly, love. .: Soothed Tylden.  
  
:. And it's not important what it is! You have the ability to help Yfandena, that's what matters. .: Cut in Solara, her mental voice overlaid with the sorrow she had tried to keep out before. :. Help her, please Van. Whatever you can do, please do it. .:  
  
"But, I. . ." Van stuttered.  
  
:. Please. . .: Whispered Solara, turning her head to face the King's Own.  
  
Van could not say no to the sorrow in her blue eyes. With a sigh, he reached out his hand to cover the Karsite Princess's cold, pale fingers. "I'll do what I can," he sighed, closing his eyes. Gently, ground and center. Reach out and send her comfort. 


	25. Ch24

Author's notes:  
  
Thanks everyone for the comments. I've tried to stay consistent to M.Lackey, and thank you to the people who've pointed out "untruths" as they could be called. I've tried to work them in so they stay consistent in the Velgarth world, or tried to work in explanations for why things are the way they are in this situation.  
  
Breezefire: I'm working on the relationships between Companions and Heralds, especially the relationship between King/Queen's Own and the Grove Born. Since it's a history epic, and it'd be boring if everything stayed the same, I'm working from an evolutionary perspective (i.e. everything evolved to where the "modern" story is). So, little things were different back then from the "now" of even Vanyel's time ().  
  
Tsukinoko1: I'll be honest, I forgot how old Yfandena is exactly. (--);; In my original concept outline, I had her as the same age/around the same age as Vanel but I forgot what that age precisely. So, I would say she is teen-ish, probably around 16/15 but I'm not 100% sure. I'll probably give a more exact reference as the story progresses if age becomes an issue, but calculating it would involve going back through old notes  
  
Okay, well thank you everyone for reading my fic! I didn't even know so many people were actually still reading!! Anyways, enjoy!!!!!!!!!!  
  
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Arms, legs, hair: Yfandenda let them dangle in the oblivion that surrounded her. She didn't have the energy to move them even if she had wanted to. Not that she wanted to--the darkness was quiet and wrapped around her like a blanket of ice, pleasantly freezing her hectic thoughts to a slower pace and numbing all pain. It hid her too, from the annoyingly bright green lights that kept calling out to her. She wasn't sure what they were, but they hurt her eyes. The last one had been especially bright and tinged with hints of blue and silver. Half of her wished that she had stayed to stare at the way the colors had blended together, but light forced away darkness and she liked the darkness.  
  
My parents gave me to demons then deserted me by dying, Yfandena's mind stated clearly as she felt the last of her emotions freeze in the icy dark. But they always loved me. Papa always loved me, Mama too, sort of.  
  
The thoughts didn't quite run together. Something was amiss. Slow though her frozen consciousness might be, but Yfandena knew that something was not altogether right. The logic that should have flowed in a steady stream, unbroken, did not.  
  
They sold me to be raped.  
  
Another thought that did not fit. If her parents had loved her, they would not have sold her to be raped. Perhaps my parents did not love me.  
  
Yet, old memory of her parents floated to the surface in answer to her thoughts: King Albencht, kneeling in the dirt and grass in all his regal finery, gently washing the scraped knees of his small crying daughter. Queen Graeis sitting on the edge of Yfandena's bed every evening, gently stroking her hair and singing her to sleep with tales of heroes and princesses. No, they loved me. Then, perhaps they did not know what the Heralds truly were?  
  
Again, memories answered her thoughts: Albencht clouting Estien's shoulder as the two walked down the hall, smiling despite the loud arguments that persisted. Graeis, patting Estien's head, insisting that he eat another sweetroll, despite the six she had already managed to stuff into him. Late nights, her parents deep in conversation with the Herald's white uniform tinged red and orange by the light of the nearby fire.  
  
They knew. They knew Estien well, and they knew what Heralds were, Yfandena concluded. But Estien raped me.  
  
Detachedly, she viewed the jumble of emotions she had felt the morning she had awoken to discover her shame. She had been hurt, yes. More than that, she realized, she had been angry. She had had no choice in anything that had happened that night or day. My parents made the decision to marry me, the Herald made the decision to shame me. Why?  
  
Snatches of conversations echoed in Yfandena's ears. Something about political alliances, thrones, and revolutions. It was important to remember, but she couldn't quite grasp any of it.  
  
"You raped me!"  
  
"What? My lady..."  
  
It didn't make sense! None of it made sense. . .  
  
"Perhaps, Princess, it is because you are thinking alone."  
  
Yfandena jumped at the sound of the masculine voice, or at least would have jumped if there had been solid ground underneath her feet. A glowing ball of silvery-blue approached her and began to bathe her in its light. "A mystery that one cannot solve, sometimes two can unravel together."  
  
"What. . ." Yfandena tried to form coherent thoughts in the face of the bright light, but the darkness that had allowed her to think, that had chilled away all her anguish began to melt. No, she wanted to scream as the pain returned, she had to get away from the light. As the panicked thoughts ran through her mind, she realized that she begun to race away from the bright bluish ball.  
  
"WAIT! Princess, please!" The words tugged at her with invisible strings. Yfandena did not want to, but she found herself turning to see the amorphous shape expand, growing dimmer as it changed. "Princess, no-- sister of my heart, please wait and speak with me."  
  
A man. Yfandena found herself stopping and waiting as a beautiful man with silver-tinged eyes approached her. A man who, although his glowing form did hurt her eyes a bit, felt strangely familiar too. "Are you the shadow- lover?" She found herself asking him as he drew closer, "Or are you one of Vkandis's messenger angels? I've heard that they are beautiful too."  
  
A half-smile twisted sculpted lips into a gamine expression. "Shadow- lover? No. Angel? Most definitely not. In fact, I know of at least one person that would have a rather hysterical fit at the thought."  
  
Said teasingly, somehow, the sentence became a private joke between Dena and the man. Despite herself, Yfandena found herself smiling. "Oh. . . Then who are you?"  
  
"My name is Vanel." He replied simply. Vanel. . . Yfandena ran the name through her mind like silk over bare skin. It felt nice. "That's a good name. Mine is Yfandena, but most people call me Dena."  
  
"Thank you," Vanel smiled. Unconsciously, Yfandena found herself responding with a grin of her own. For some reason, it was hard to deny the man. "Well then Dena, how about you and me walk about this place a bit and chat. Something seems to be bothering you. Maybe I can help."  
  
I doubt it. . . Dena wanted to grumble. Her problems were her problems, and no ghostly man (no matter how handsome) was going to know any solutions.  
  
"You don't know until you try," Vanel quietly whispered in response to the unvoiced thought.  
  
"H-How? I never said. . ." Yfandena stuttered as she stared at Vanel, eyes wide. These spirits were scary.  
  
Vanel let another half-smile cross his face as he brought up a long, slender finger to gently tap the side of Yfandena's head. "The mind works in mysterious ways, you see."  
  
Yfandena continued to stare, but did not pull away as Vanel affectionately tugged on a lock of her hair. She did not pull away, but neither did she take the hand she saw him offer to her. Well, albeit, glowing handsome men don't appear everyday but why should I trust him? I may have gone insane. Yes, he could very well me a manifestation of my insanity. But. . .perhaps it is Vkandis' will. And maybe, she thought in the deepest corner of her mind, just maybe he really could help. Well, what other options do I really have, besides floating about? I do like the darkness, but. . . Sighing, Yfandena realized that her decision was a foregone conclusion. With one last longing look at the darkness around her, Dena gently clasped Van's proffered hand. "So first off, my parents. . ." 


	26. Ch25

He was not sulking in the dark, Estien found himself repeating like a mantra, simply practicing an inordinately complicated feat of stealth. He was also not scuttling between shadowed corners. It was simply an exercise of quiet, albeit hunched, walking.  
  
A color like the taste of crisp green apples filled his mind.  
  
:. Stop snickering, tail-sniffer. .: Shot the crown-prince of Valdemar to his Companion.  
  
Estien felt Rolan sniff indignantly. :. Tail-sniffer? I would thank you to keep your disgusting notions to yourself, brother. I am not some sort of common canine, you know. Horse. . .dog. . .they're entirely different animals. .:  
  
:. Ah-ha! So you admit you're a horse, Horse! .: If Estien hadn't been cramped behind a statue, he would have stomped his foot to emphasize his triumph. As it was, he simply nodded profoundly.  
  
:. Oh, get over it, Chosen. And you're not sulking or scuttling, you're slinking. Now hurry-up or you're going to lose him. .:  
  
A fleeting wave of annoyance tinged Estien's thoughts. I wouldn't have to 'slink' or worry about losing anyone if my damn Companion decided to stop keeping secrets, he found himself thinking. :. You know, Rolan, this would all be a lot easier if you would just tell me what the boy is up to, since you obviously know. .:  
  
:.I told you, just follow him! You'll see soon enough. .: replied the Companion, voice tinged with obvious enjoyment. Estien understood that a lot of things surrounding the Companions were, by nature, hedged in mystery. However, sometimes (like now), he felt that Rolan took the mysterious role a bit too seriously. Estien felt Rolan snort in indignation, and knew with a twinge of regret that he'd pay for all the unshielded thinking he'd done tonight.  
  
Estien plastered his back to the wall, walking sideways through the corridor, senses focused to pick up any noises or hints of movement in the soft light of the night lamps. With the care developed from years of weapons training, Estien placed one foot after another on the solid wood surface of the corridor floor with all the silence of a cat in every step. :. Rolan, remind me to revisit the guard schedules for the corridors and to look into those security traps the Artificers have been babbling about. It's entirely too easy to sneak about in here, and if it's easy for me it will be next to nothing for an actual spy. .:  
  
The Herald-Prince felt his Companion grin in response. :. See, you're learning from the experience. .:  
  
Estien fought down the urge to throttle the Companion. It's not Rolan's fault that he's an incredibly annoying fart-bag on four feet, after all, Estien thought with a sigh, very publicly.  
  
:. It's also not my fault if Kyla remembers that you haven't gone through the advanced survival run in, oh, years. .: Flipped back Rolan.  
  
:. You wouldn't. . . .:  
  
:. Survival is very important, Chosen. .: Sent Rolan, his mental voice dripping innocence layered on amusement. :. It's important for you to be able to care for yourself in ANY situation, even ones where you can't get a daily bath. .:  
  
Shaking a fist angrily into the air, Estien refused to respond to his Companion's jibe. Instead, he decided, it was probably safer to concentrate on the task ahead. Poking his head around the corridor's corner, he watched as Vanel's head disappeared down the south stairs. Stairs, which he knew from experience, led directly into the "working" area of the palace: the classroom corridors, the artificer's laboratories, and eventually to. . .the Healers' area.  
  
Suddenly, everything fell into place. Foresight wasn't Vanel's only Gift, if Estien recalled correctly, there was talk of him also becoming a very powerful MindHealer someday. :. Okay Rolan, you are going to give me straight answer. Is Vanel, a half-trained MindHealer, going to try and help Yfandena, a patient that not even the best Healers have been able to help? .:  
  
A brief silence filled the air around Estien as he felt Rolan think of how to answer. Finally, Rolan Sent a simple affirmative. :. Yes. .:  
  
Anger filled Estien. Struggling for control of his temper, Estien tried to shunt away some of the fierce emotions that colored his mental voice. He had to stay calm. He had to get through this and think, he told himself repeatedly. :. And, dare I ask, WHAT you and Tylden were thinking when you undoubtedly allowed if not suggested this mad escapade? Fully aware, of course, of the dangers a HALF-TRAINED Healer places themselves in when they try to Heal without supervision. Not to mention the damage that could be done to Yfandena! .:  
  
Estien could almost see Rolan's ears flatten in contrite response. :. We HAD to Chosen. Yfandena is out of options, he's her only hope, and if anything goes wrong. . . Well, you ARE awake. .:  
  
:. ME? And what am I supposed to do, Rolan?.: Shouted back Estien. He could feel his throat close with a touch of panic as he thought of how truly little he could do if anything went awry. :. I'm no Healer. .:  
  
:. You've enough empathy to channel and a strong Mage-Gift besides. You'll be able to do enough. I will show you if the need arises. .: Concluded Rolan. Estien could not help but note the tinge of uncertainty colored his tone. :.Yes, I'm uncertain, brother. It would be better for everyone if no need arose. .:  
  
The Companion's voice begged for trust, for approval. Estien knew better than most the price of command, the weight of a decision. He could feel Rolan's heart, as he felt his own heart, ache with all that it had taken to do what was needed. I suppose, that's the key. It was needed. :. Choice is never easy, is it brother? .: Estien Sent quietly. :. Well, let's pray to the gods that this choice was right, and hope that I am not needed to do whatever little you seem to think I can do. .: 


	27. Ch26

Author's note: I know the last chapter had very little progress, but I just missed writing Estien. He's got a good temper, he's funny, and I like him a lot more than Yfandena (who's a brat) and Vanel (who's gloomy). Heh. Don't worry the action should pick up in the next couple of chapters because I've decided to condense the plot () this story was getting waaaaaaaaaaaaay too long and drawn out, no matter how much fun I have writing it. . . P.S. Anyone interested in beta-ing? pweese? ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------  
  
Slowly, Estien crept around the door and into the room temporarily designated for the young Karsite princess. I haven't really been here enough he thought to himself with some chagrin as he took in the bare walls and aseptic floors. He appreciated the Healers' need for order and cleanliness, but the room was altogether depressing in its empty state. Sighing, he made a mental note to try and send down rugs and wall hangings for the Healers' rooms.  
  
:. What are you doing here? .: an unfamiliar voice interrupted Estien's decorative plans.  
  
Estien started. Looking about he saw no one around, especially anyone female, as the voice had most definitely been. :. Rolan? .: he Sent, his query layered with overtones of hope.  
  
:. No, Yfandena isn't awake. .: replied Rolan rather too quickly for Estien's liking.  
  
He could have let me hold onto my hopes for at least a couple more minutes, sighed Estien in the manner of the long suffering.  
  
:. And what good would that have done? .: shot back Rolan, his tone equally pained. :.That was Solara. Yfandena's firecat, she's sitting by Yfandena's feet. .:  
  
Estien blinked. He watched as a large lump he had thought was a rug inflated and rose to its feet. Her feet he corrected himself quickly. He had expected a lot of odd events to occur tonight, but certainly not meeting the avatar of the Karsite god. Plastering a smile on his face, Estien approached the said deity with a slight twitch of nerves. "Hello and welcome to Valdemar?"  
  
:. Oh, aren't you the articulate one. .: said the firecat sarcastically. Blinking slowly, Solara sank down onto her haunches and began to lick her front paws.  
  
Struck silent by the maneuver he'd seen hundreds of barn cats do performed by an avatar of the gods, Estien stared, mouth falling slightly agape.  
  
:. She's a lot like me, you know. .: Chuckled Rolan in his mind. :. And right now she's forming about the same opinions of you that I probably would if you ever stared at me with your mouth hanging wide enough for an entire army to march into. .:  
  
That snapped Estien out of his reverie. Rolan's mocking was a familiar thing indeed, and the LAST thing he needed was ANOTHER Rolan around. Smirking, Estien quickly nodded his respects to the firecat and moved to more carefully observe whatever was happening between Yfandena and Vanel. Whatever it was, Yfandena was as pallidly comatose as ever and Vanel was blind, deaf, and dumb to the world.  
  
Sighing, Estien supposed he would just have to let the threads of time weave themselves. On the other hand, he did NOT have to stand in the dark waiting for said threads. Glaring at the candles around the room, Estien lit them all with a touch of magic. He was a Herald and the Heir, he might have chosen not to claim them but he had certain prerogatives. One of them was to visit his wife in the middle of the night with a half-trained MindHealer unquestioned. At least, that's what I'll say, although I think father would probably have skinned me alive if I'd tried to justify something like this a year ago, winced Estien. He hated thinking about how frail his father was getting. Once vigorous, the king was currently on his last legs, and the entire court knew it. Karse knew it too. One of the reasons, Albencht had been able to push through the Sophia Pact through. Their princess would be a queen soon, he had told the council.  
  
Speaking of the princess. . . Estien stared at the figure lying as still as stone on the bed and felt a deluge of guilt wash over him. Guilt and anger. So much pain, and for what? To think that she was so twisted by her own countrymen to think that I . . . Estien wondered how it had happened. Certainly Graeis and Albencht would not have told her anything to lead her to think him capable of harming her, they knew what he was and was definitely NOT capable of.  
  
A low moan broke through Estien's thoughts. Puzzled, Estien stared at the firecat, who stared back at Estien before gently shaking her head in amazement. Together they turned to face Yfandena who moaned again, this time moving her head to the side as well, before growing still once more. Only. . .something was different.  
  
"What?" Estien found himself whispering.  
  
"She's back in her body."  
  
Estien started. "Van! What. . .?"  
  
Vanel chuckled as he sat and watched his prince gape wordlessly, for the first (and probably last) time.  
  
"Well your Highness, given that you're here, not looking twice at this bag of fur," said Vanel, patting an indignant Solara on the head, "and from what Tylden is going on about in my head, I take it you know what we've all been up to."  
  
"Yes," replied Estien simply. His mind was still reeling, trying to grasp what was going on. Yfandena had been gone for days, where no Healer could reach her, and Vanel--a HALF-TRAINED MindHealer--had brought her out in the time it took him to walk down and light the candles! The thought was preposterous, and Estien began to say as much.  
  
". . .Not really," Vanel cut in after several minutes. "Highness, Yfandena wasn't suffering, really, from any physical malady. There wasn't anything to Heal. She just needed someone to trust, to listen to her. How do I put this. . .she couldn't get her footing in this world, so she saw no point in returning to it when she left, but then she couldn't find the way back. Albeit, it probably wouldn't have been as bad if she wasn't such a spoiled git and wanted everything exactly her way, but she's also been through a lot. Lack of maturity combined with mature experiences is never a good combination. I think she'll be okay now, though."  
  
"But no one could even reach her!" shouted Estien. The entire situation was just too. . .incredible. "How did you even get to her?"  
  
Vanel paused. Estien watched as conflicting emotions warred across his sculpted face. "I-It wasn't so hard for me. I went and. . .there was a line. Like me to Tyl but different. The color, I think. More silver-blue than the me and Tyl's. It was just different but the line was there and I followed it," Vanel's eyes grew distant as he lost himself in memory, "I saw her. She looked so confused, and I could hear her. Then I talked to her, and listened, and I told her to come back. I showed her, because I knew the way back. See, because I followed her line to her, but I could follow Tyl's back to here."  
  
For a moment, Estien felt his heart stop as Vanel seemed to crumple, almost falling off the chair. Rushing to his aid, Estien Felt the energy Vanel had used in finding and bringing back Yfandena. :. Rolan, enough of this secrecy. Call a Healer, now! Vanel's overextended himself and he needs more than my skills can do. .:  
  
:. I know. Healers are on their way. Please, Brother. We only wanted to make sure the two of them were not interrupted. It could have been dangerous, and you know another Healer would have tried to stop him. .:  
  
:. There are reasons for that! .: Growled back Estien, but even he had to concede that the circumstances had been severe. Sighing, he Sent back in a gentler tone :. Okay. I concede that what was done was done out of need, but nonetheless, I don't like it! .:  
  
:. Neither do I. .: muttered Rolan in reply. Suddenly, Estien felt a stab of worry followed by sadness vibrate down the bond between Companion and Herald. :. Estien, we've got bigger problems too. .:  
  
:. What. . .? .: Estien felt himself asking reluctantly for, what must have surely been, the hundredth time that night. Unfortunately, this time the answer came in the form of a tolling bell.  
  
:. The King. .: said the Companion solemnly, confirming the truth Estien already knew.  
  
Estien sank to the floor, mind blank. "Rolan. . ." he whispered.  
  
:. I know, I'm here. .: replied the Companion gently.  
  
Solara, position herself under Estein's arm, and pawed him with feather- light touches. :. We're ALL here for you, you're Majesty. The King is dead. Long live the King. .: 


	28. Ch27

.:I've never actually seen someone twiddle their thumbs before.:.

Yfandena coughed to hide the snort of laughter that threatened to bubble out. This was a somber event, and the entire court was supposed to be in mourning besides. Dena turned her gaze to stare at the source of the remark and was, once again, caught by how much Estien seemed to have aged in so short a time.

As if responding to her thoughts of him, Estien turned his gaze away from the fat twiddling thumbs of the currently-speaking merchant to meet her's. There was red rimming those eyes and a new depth to the crease that now seemed a permanent fixture between his eyebrows. He must have spent the entire night in council again, she realized with a frown.

.:Your frowning is making people nervous.:. sent Solara quickly.

Yfandena plastered a smile on her face on the heels of the Sending. .:They can go eat Vkandis's Great Cesspool, for all I care. Solara, can't I say I'm tired and leave:.

.:You left early yesterday. :. Solara reminded her reproachfully. .:You're a Queen now, and you have duties. :.

.:But, does it matter:. Yfandena knew she was starting to whine, but the audiences were growing duller with every passing day. At least, in the beginning, they had been mostly people with gifts seeking to swear fealty. .:They're all just merchants and common rabble. Not even prosperous rabble, at that.:.

.:Dena, they are the people of Valdemar. Your people.:. Admonished a deeper Voice. Blue-green light filled her with the Sending, and Yfandena Reached unconsciously. She knew Vanel, the man that had pulled her from the Darkness, as well as she knew the sound of her own heartbeat.

.:But Van...:.

.:Now, now, Dena IS still recovering...:.

Yfandena let her smile drop into a smirk as Estien's firm, smooth aura flittered through her head. If Vanel appeared silver-blue to her mind's eye, Estien was the deepest blue of the night sky. Inwardly, she was amused by the protective, almost coddling, attitude Estien had adopted since Van had managed to awaken her. She was also smart enough to take full advantage of it.

.:Solara...:. Yfandena pleaded, knowing she would win this time.

Estien sent her a wordless feeling of encouragement as he bent his head down to listen to yet another farmer in distress.

.:Merchant, actually. Nod wisely.:.

Yfandena nodded and Sent him a mental raspberry in the meantime. She watched as Estien's lips twitched slightly. The relationship between the two of them had been awkward for the first few days after she had awakened, but had grown progressively over the last 25. MindSpeech had helped enormously. One couldn't lie in the mind, and now Yfandena trusted Estien like she trusted few others. In a way, Yfandena felt happy.

Well, not completely. Too much had happened for her to be completely happy. Her parents, her kingdom…

.:Princess, this is your kingdom now.:. whispered Vanel with a mental hug. .:You are alive and well, and that's enough for Valdemar.:.

.:Then, let me leave this Audience, please:.

Yfandena knew that she was being childish. She could sense Solara's disapproval, and Vanel's, but she also didn't know if she could take another candlemark of dirt grubbers asking for the King's advice on plow-sizes. It wasn't as if she was any help, after all.

.:Smile and nod graciously, the representative from Kendril Grove is looking at you. To your right.:. Sent Vanel in response.

Yfandena looked around and met the eyes of an older, stoutly built man and mentally started. There was something oddly familiar about him. Quickly, Dena covered her thoughts, smiling and gracefully nodding a greeting as she had been instructed.

.:Familiar? What do you mean familiar:. asked Solara immediately. She was always a good deal quicker to pick-up on Yfandena than any of the other minds listening in on her. Sometimes, between Van, Tyl, Solara, and Estien, Yfandena felt like her head was a meeting hall, but Solara's presence was always welcome.

.:I don't know, it's just a sense I get. Like I've met him before.:.

Yfandena felt a sort of buzzing hum go through her head, and knew the "adults" were consulting one another without including her. .:Would you mind not talking over my head:. She finally interjected when they continued well past the calling of the next petitioner.

.:My apologies, my lady.:. replied Estien, obviously a bit amused at her frustrated tone. .:But, I think you can have your wish to go granted. Your senses are excellent for all your lack of training, and this man may well be a Sunpriest spy. I want you out of this room in any case.:.

"My lady Queen, are you feeling alright?" shouted Vanel, as if on cue. Rushing to her side, he gripped her and pulled her out of her chair. "You're very warm, perhaps you should go lie down..."

"Y-yes, that would be well Herald," Yfandena whispered into a deathly silent hall. Despite Vanel's careful shielding of her, she could sense all the eyes of the room staring. No matter how she felt about the Valdemarens, all of them seemed to care about every small thing that happened to her. No doubt, this incident would cause a fresh spout of rumors to pour.

Micheviously, Yfandena wondered if she should have some fun with the situation as she let Vanel escort her out. .:La-di, my good Herald, I do believe that I shall faint! Catch me now:.

.:Don't you dare Dena! If you fainted, half the room would think you're pregnant and the other half would think you're being abused. Either way, it'll be a headache for the King.:.

Yfandena smiled. The King. And, she was Queen. She could sense Estien's attention as she let Vanel lead her out of the Audience chamber. Holding tightly to his arm, Yfandena could feel the warmth in his touch. His presence was like a soothing balm accentuated by a rumbling purr that began at her feet. Dena knew without looking down that Solara had fallen into pace with them: the light of Vkandis watching her path.

Perhaps, Yfandena wondered, this was what her parents had lovingly planned after all.

Author's NOTE:

Thank you to all the people that followed this story and sent me all your kind words of encouragement. I can't believe it's almost over! (Well, it actually isn't over... I originally planned this story as a trilogy, but I may just end it as a duology or even just in the next chapter). Anyway, the next chapter will be the LAST chapter, so please, look forward to it!


	29. Epilogue

Author's Note:

To anyone still with me. Thank you for all your support. It makes me very happy to think that people actually read and maybe even like my writing a wee bit. I'm sorry I've been so terrible about updating, but life keeps moving even when we want to just sit and write. It's almost sad to think that I started this story in a tiny dorm room, and I'm finishing it on a sleepless night between never-ending piles of clients, memorandum, and meetings.

This is, more or less, the conclusion I envisioned when I began the story. There was a lot more that was supposed to happen somewhere between the last few chapters and this one, but I figured that I should write what I could when I had the chance because I might not have the chance to work on this story again. Maybe someday I'll go back and fill-in the inbetweens, when work is slow or if I decide to give up the slog of corporate America and become a starving artist. More likely I won't. I like eating. So, here is what I could do with the time that I had.

Enjoy!! And, as always, thanks for reading!

**Epilogue**

The flicker of candlelight brought Yfandena back to herself as she focused her blurring vision back onto the rolls of parchment before her. Lately, the days seemed the never end.

.:Tired, love?:. Not nearly enough to stop before finishing her pile, she thought half to herself. Oh, how low she had fallen in the years since she'd first come to Valdemar. To think that she of all people would join those pea-brained white coats in their ceaseless quest to work themselves to an early grave.

The silver-blue of Vanel flitted into her mind, sampling her thoughts with the freedom of someone who knew all her secrets, and for a moment she tasted apples as he laughed at her thoughts. .:Well, finish what you're doing and go to bed. Estein is pacing in his room and liable to give himself another heart attack.:.

Yfandena's own heart stumbled as she remembered that night that they'd all come too close to losing Valdemar's King.

.:Go to bed yourself.:. Replied Yfandena with a light mental hug. .:You can't possibly still be in Counsel.:.

She could feel Vanel sigh through the distance between them, for all he was probably sitting statue-still next to her son in the Privy Chambers. .:Well, Bard Garner had this brilliant idea to start some sort of Bardic School, and Lord Wyvernan is insisting we set it up near his lands...:.

.:Of course he would, the old coot loves music more than food, though not nearly as much as the sound of his old voice. How is Hydan handling the situation?:.

.:Well enough to do you and Estein proud. He'll make as fine a king as he is a Herald.:.

Five years, four grandchildren, two assassination plots, innumerable Karsite spies, and an ever-increasing number of Heralds since Estein's ill health began, and it still hurt to think he would ever leave them.

.:It comes to us all in time:. Said a warm reassuring presence at her side.

Yfandena gazed down at Solara, and laid a gentle hand on the firecat's head. .:Indeed it does, oh wise one. But then it begins again, does it not?:.

Solara chuckled, or at least came as near to chuckling as a cat could, which Yfandena could only describe as a strange mating of hiss and purr. .:Havens willing. You've gained a little of that wisdom yourself over the years. You're hardly the Brat Queen you once were, and the new laws will make sure Valdemar never need fear one again.:.

Looking back down at the parchment in front of her, Yfandena dribbled red wax beneath where the long lines of text ended. Carefully, she pushed her royal seal into the quickly drying blob. She'd once scoffed at the problems of the Valdemar's farmers, but now spent most nights wrestling with them. Petitions for farms near Haven seeking to hunt in the Royal Forests. Petitions to dig ditches for irrigation bording the outer Palace wall.

The Senechal could take care of it, she knew, if she did not. The man was worse than a Herald. But, she'd long sense given herself to seeing to the needs of her people herself.

Her people. Yfandena ran a finger lightly over the still soft wax of the seal. A Firecat and a Companion entwined around a crown. She smiled. It was a beautiful seal and no one would ever use it again. .:It's for the best, isn't it Solara? A Herald ruler and a Herald consort. Rulers for the people, who will always give their all to the people.:.

Solara purred and rubbed head reassuringly against Yfandena's leg. .:As it should be, for all that if makes you sound like one of Them.:.

.:The White Demons? Like I'd be crazy enough to ever join that lot. Self-sacrificing to a fault, foolish is what they are.:. Snorted Yfandena, her lips twisted mischievously in a mock-scowl. She pushed herself out of her chair and gave in to a bone-popping stretch before reaching before blowing out the candle on her desk. She turned to look for the door just as Solara began to glow quite helpfully. .:Have I ever mentioned how much better I love you than any of my torches?:.

This time it was Solara's turn to snort. .:Have I ever told you how fast I'd get demoted from Avatar to Backwater Priest if the other Firecats found I used Vkandis's Light like a common candle?:.

Yfandena looked down, a grin broadening across her face. .:Yes, but it'd be worth it right?:.

Solara looked up and nodded once with all solemnity. .:For you? For this? For Valdemar and Karse? Always and forever.:.

.:Then, here's to the future my friend.:. With that, Yfandena grasped the heavy brass knob of the chamber door, and opened it wide. For her adopted home, she hoped, it would be a bright future indeed.


End file.
